National Treasure: The Secret of Page FortySeven
by Rose DiVerona
Summary: My attempt at a National Treasure 3. An old enemy returns for revenge and the President's Book, a new treasure reveals itself, and we're all wondering: What is the secret of page 47?
1. Trailer

A/N: So I heard about the National Treasure 3 trailer challenge, and since I had already written half of a trailer anyways, I decided to finish it and submit. I hope this is as good as some of the others I've read.

Bold is the narrator, italics are actions or what you're seeing when there's no dialogue.

Disclaimer: Don't own it. Wish I did...don't.

* * *

**National Treasure: The Secret of Page Forty-Seven**

Ben: As legend goes, there is a book that holds all our nation's most well-guarded secrets. The missing minutes of the Watergate incident, the City of Gold, and Area 51. But on Page 47, there's a secret none of us is ready for.

_Ben and Riley sitting together_

Ben: You know I can't tell you, Riley. That's between me and the President.

Riley: For now.

**Benjamin Gates is famous worldwide for the discovery of the Templar Treasure and the City of Gold. Everyone admires him; everyone wants to be him.**

_Cheering people_

**Everyone except one man.**

_Riley watching T.V., looks shocked_

News Announcer: Criminal Ian Howe escaped this afternoon from D.C. Central Detention Center...

_Crash, Riley turns, blackout_

_Police sirens_

**And when the status quo changes…**

Ben: Ian, let him go!

Ian: Get me the book, or someone is going to get hurt.

_Gunshot_

Abigail: Ben, look out!

…**everything they think they know will be turned upside-down.**

Patrick: It can't be…

Ben: There's another part to the treasure.

Riley: _(screaming) _What do you want from me?! What do you want from me?!

Emily: You can't go down there, you'll never make it out!

Ben: If we don't go, Riley will die.

Sadusky: Move in! Move in!

Abigail: Will we ever get any downtime?

Ben: Not while I'm around.

_Quick scenes flash, including Ian and henchmen with guns, Ben jumping, Abigail screaming, beaten Riley on ground, Ben's parents in out-of-control car, Sadusky turning quickly, Abigail and Ben kiss_

**Nicolas Cage - National Treasure: The Secret of Page Forty-Seven**

_National Treasure logo, beneath it – "The Secret of Page Forty-Seven" (same time as above narration)_

Riley: There wouldn't happen to be a Door Number Three, would there?

_Ian cocks gun_

Riley: …I'll take that as a no.

_Credits show_

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A/N: I hope you liked it. And...drumroll, please...I am writing a story based on it! I already have several chapters written, so be on the lookout soon! 


	2. The Beginning

A/N: Okay, so here it is, Chapter One! It's shorter than my usual chapters, but I'm just getting started, trust me.

* * *

**The Beginning**

"…_Because you had a bad day, you're taking one down, you sing a sad song just to turn it around…"_

The song, one of Riley's favorites, blasted out of the speakers of his red Ferrari as he drove quickly through the busy roads of Washington D.C. Normally, Riley would have been singing along to the music, but the other day his girlfriend, Jacqueline, or Jackie for short, had confessed to him that he had an awful voice and had begged him never to sing aloud again. Even though Jackie wasn't in the car right now, he remembered her words with wry humor, and clamped his lips together.

Riley had no reason to be having a "bad day". It was a beautiful afternoon, he'd gone to lunch with his incredibly cute and sweet girlfriend, and he was driving his prized red-hot Ferrari…_tax-free._ Of course, the taillights of said vehicle had required replacing three months back after an accident with the gear shift and a couple of trashcans, but that was in the past.

Riley was on his way to visit Ben and Abigail. This wasn't unusual. The techie spent most of his time over at his friends' huge mansion. It was much more homey than Riley's own tiny apartment, which he refused to replace despite having the money to do so. He hummed happily to himself as he turned onto a broad avenue, and then onto a smooth stone road. A little way along, he came to a wrought iron gate. As usual, it was wide open. Ben and Abigail never closed the gate unless they went out of town.

The Ferrari turned a corner and the house came into view. Riley was so used to it by now that he almost wasn't impressed at its size. Almost. He parked carelessly next to Ben's somewhat less flashy car, admiring the contrast. Then he loped through the courtyard (also open) to the front door, and knocked.

Abigail answered. "Oh, hey, Riley," she said, unsurprised at the visitor.

"You look dressed up," Riley noticed as he followed his friend into the kitchen. She was wearing a pretty dark purple dress, and was messing with an earring.

"Ben and I have a business dinner to go to." Abigail explained.

"Oh." Riley wasn't expecting that, and his disappointment must have showed on his face because Abigail laughed.

"We would have told you earlier, Riley, but it was a last minute thing. I wouldn't even be going, but everyone wants to meet 'the new fiancé'."

Ben had finally proposed to Abigail just two weeks before.

"That's fine," Riley shrugged. "Can I still hang out here?"

"Sure," Ben answered, entering the room. "Hi, Riley." He waved a hand at his friend in greeting. "You know you're always welcome." He glanced at his watch. "I'll go get the coats, Abby."

When he was gone, Abigail turned to Riley. "Riley, it's Friday night! Shouldn't you be out with Jackie?"

"Not tonight." Riley's finger traced patterns on the counter, his eyes not meeting Abigail's.

"You didn't break up, did you?"

Riley's blue eyes widened, and he did look up briefly. "What? No! Are you kidding? We just had lunch today. It's just…" he glanced around to make sure Ben hadn't come back, then leaned forward confidentially. "I like her. I really do. It's just…I don't know. Something's changed. I feel like the love has sort of left the relationship, you know?"

"Does she know that?" Abigail asked gently.

Riley blushed. "How could I tell her something like that? She seems to really like me. And I don't want to hurt her and ruin the first relationship I've had since high school. I want to fix things. But if she doesn't know anything's wrong, how can I do that?"

"Well, maybe an idea will come to you while you're here tonight," Abigail suggested as Ben reentered the room with his and Abigail's coats.

"Hate to interrupt this little meeting, but we need to get going." Ben said. "You gonna be okay tonight by yourself?" he jokingly asked Riley.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Riley rolled his eyes, waving a hand dismissively, "I'll make sure nobody burns the house down."

"Nobody? Like you, you mean?" Abigail teased. She put her coat on. "You know the drill. Food's in the fridge and pantry, have whatever you like, watch TV, get on the computer…Just try not to fall asleep and spill the lasagna this time, please." Riley and Ben grinned, remembering a certain night when Abigail had come home to see that Riley had fallen asleep and spilled his unfinished dinner plate all over the cream carpet. "The alarm is set, but if you get the sudden urge to step outside, you know the code. Even if you forget the code, you won't have any trouble disabling the alarm, will you?" She smiled playfully and took her purse from Ben, heading for the front door.

"Yes, _Mom_!" Riley called after her.

Ben smiled and saluted as he followed his fiancée down the hall to the garage.

"You can stay as long as you like!" Abigail shouted one last instruction, "We shouldn't be home too late."

"Have fun!" Riley called after them. "Enjoy your spoils," he whispered to himself. He smiled and bent over to take off his shoes. As he kicked off one, his foot got caught in the other one's laces and he almost fell over. Grumbling, he managed to disentangle himself and got rid of the other shoe.

"**I should really get Velcro!" **he muttered.

--

Across the street from the Gates manor, a man dressed in black watched as a car pulled out of the driveway and disappeared around the corner. He muttered into a walkie-talkie. "Gates and the girl have left. They were the only two in the car, and the Ferrari hasn't come out. Poole must still be in there."

The next block over, a van sat in wait. Inside, a light-haired man smiled unpleasantly, his fingers curled around his own talkie.

"Perfect," he replied into the speaker, "We make our move in ten. Stand by." Then he leaned back, stretching out his legs and chuckling. "And won't little Riley be surprised to see us…"

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A/N: Uh-oh...review for more! Next chapter mostly written! 


	3. Kidnapped

A/N: Sorry, Chapter Two isn't much, if any, longer than the first one, but I wanted to update tonight, and I'm sure you all don't mind that, right? Enjoy!

I got a lot of inspiration for this chapter from the 1992 movie "Patriot Games", with Harrison Ford and Sean Bean.

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**Kidnapped**

"Do you think Riley will be okay without us tonight?" Abigail asked as Ben drove through the quickly darkening evening.

He laughed. "Riley's a grown person, Abigail. Just because he's barely twenty-four doesn't mean he can't take care of himself."

"I know…" Abigail sighed. "I just feel strange. Something isn't right."

Ben rolled his eyes. "It's just a few hours. What could happen?"

--

"There!" Riley exclaimed triumphantly, putting the last piece of salami on his sandwich and slopping the second piece of bread on top. A double-decker salami, lettuce, cheese, jelly, and tomato sandwich. To anyone else, disgusting. To Riley…delicious.

He leaned forward to take the first bite, but was interrupted by an odd, irritating clanging noise coming from outside. The window didn't offer a very good view, so Riley slipped on his shoes and headed to the front door.

"51366…" he murmured, typing in the alarm code. As soon as the confirmation beep sounded, he stepped outside. A chilly breeze whipped through the air, and Riley shivered in his T-shirt and thin jacket. The clanging came again, and he realized with an eye roll that it was just the gates at the entrance to the property, left open and swinging in the wind.

He headed back inside, not bothering to reset the alarm. He didn't know why Ben bothered with so much security anyway. _Ben's just paranoid…_

Suddenly not hungry, Riley reentered the living room, flopping down on the couch, and flicking the TV on. The news was on, and he let it run, laying back into the cushions and closing his eyes while the announcer's voice droned.

"…in other news, criminal Ian Howe has escaped from D.C.'s Central Detention Center…"

"What? Ian!" Riley shot up and stared, wide-eyed, at the all-too familiar face of the treasure hunter glaring out from his mugshot.

"…Howe is reported to be armed and dangerous. If you sight him, do not attempt confrontation, but get to a phone and call 911 immediately."

Riley turned off the T.V., his heart racing. He shivered a little as he glanced around him – all alone in Ben's big, dark house…

_Oh no…Oh no, this is _not _good!_ He thought. He jumped up and ran to the phone, his fingers trembling as he began to dial Ben's number.

The power went out.

Riley dropped the phone. He glanced out the window, at the old servant's building that Ben used as a tech lab. The soft glow of computer screens was visible – which meant the power was still on out there. Which meant…

"Don't move."

Riley turned slowly. Powell stood in the doorway, the pistol in his hands pointing directly at the techie.

Riley swallowed, counted to two, and bolted. He ducked out the room's second door into the parlor, skidding on the polished wood floor and wincing as he knocked over Abigail's prized china vase. A shattering window revealed the entrance of Phil, also with a gun. A bullet whizzed right past Riley and gouged a hole in the wooden coffee table, knocking over the crystal lamp that stood on top. He didn't stop. He raced for the stairs and took them two at a time, knowing that if he tripped, he was done for.

"Poole! Stop, or I'll shoot!" Powell called from below.

Riley, chest heaving with the exertion, dove around the corner as more bullets lodged themselves in the wall where he had been seconds before. He charged into Abigail and Ben's room and locked the door behind him. He knew that wouldn't stop the men for long. But now he was trapped. There was nowhere else to go. Panting, he looked around helplessly. Then an idea came.

The trellis. There was a trellis that reached all the way from the garden to the window of this very room. Riley ran over to the window, flung it open, and looked down. He had been right. Provided he didn't tangle his legs in the vines that intertwined the structure, he should be able to make it down safely. There was only one problem; Riley was afraid of heights.

_To descend, or not to descend; that is the question…_

A thud and a splintering from the hall decided the answer for him. Swallowing hard, Riley swung his legs over the sill and pulled himself onto the trellis. It shook a little beneath his weight, but he forced himself to keep going.

_How come I suddenly feel like I'm in that Leonardo DiCaprio version of Romeo and Juliet?_ He asked himself wryly.

His amusement didn't last for long. He did reach the ground safely, jumping the last couple of feet to the wet grass. But before he could celebrate, there was the click of a gun from behind him.

Slowly, he turned. Shippen and Phil both stood there, guns pointing directly at Riley's head.

Grinning weakly, Riley raised his hands. "Parley?" he suggested.

They seized him and dragged him over the lawn towards the driveway. Riley kicked and struggled for all he was worth, but the two men were much stronger than he was, and their grip on his arms did not slacken.

There was a van in the shadows, with a man standing beside it. The figure spoke, and Riley recognized the voice even before the face became clear.

"Hello, Riley. Miss me?"

Ian Howe came out into the light, smiling triumphantly at the younger man.

"Ian," Riley spat, his eyes cold with hatred as he glared at Ian, "I can't say that I have."

"I have to admit, I haven't missed you much, either." Ian confessed, his eyes narrowing, "But I figured – time for a reunion. It's been too long."

"It hasn't been long enough," Riley shot back, spitting contemptuously.

Ian nodded over Riley's head, and then there was sharp pain, and blackness.

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A/N: I like to jump right into things, as I'm sure you've noticed. What's going to happen next? You'll have to review first! 


	4. Finding Out

A/N: I wasn't going to update until tomorrow, but I felt like updating now, and this chapter was all ready, so...consider yourselves lucky.

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**Finding Out**

Abigail drove up the long driveway to the house. The dinner party had dispersed, but some of the men invited Ben for coffee, so Abigail had begged off and come home alone. Ben was going to take a taxi in an hour or so.

She smiled when she saw Riley's Ferrari parked haphazardly by the house. He must have decided to wait for them. Either that, or he had fallen asleep. The latter was more likely.

Abigail pulled the car into the garage and backtracked to the front walk. Right away, she knew something was wrong. There were shards of glass on the grass and in the bushes by the front door, and Abigail realized with alarm that one of the front windows was shattered. Panicking, she leaned against the door to extract her housekey – and it swung open. Abigail knew the door had been locked when she and Ben left. Unless Riley had unlocked it…A glance to the panel on the wall revealed that the alarm was off. Odd…

"Riley!" Abigail called, hearing her heart beat loudly against her ribcage. "Riley, it's Abigail! I'm home!"

There was no answer, so Abigail flipped the light switch. The lights didn't come on. Taking a breath to calm herself, Abigail fished in her purse and pulled out her cell phone, using the light to see. She gasped. Broken glass was everywhere, coating the front hall and glinting off the little of the living room carpet visible from where Abigail was standing.

"No!" Abigail dropped her purse and rushed to the living room. The coffee table was knocked over, and the vase that belonged on top lay in pieces nearby. More glass lay about, but it wasn't until she saw the bullet hole in the wall that Abigail lost it completely.

She hurried to the phone, using her cell as a guide to avoid stepping on the glass. It lay on the floor…with half of Ben's cell number punched in.

"Oh, God…" Abigail hurriedly punched in Ben's number on her cell. The phone rang. "Pick up, pick up!" Abigail moaned, glancing around.

"_Abigail?_" Ben answered on the third ring.

Abigail spoke quickly, trying not to slip into hysterics. "Ben! Something's wrong! I just got home, and the power's out, and there's glass everywhere, and there's a bullet hole, and Riley's missing, and-"

"_Wait, _what?" Ben interrupted.

"Someone broke into the house!" Abigail practically screamed, "And they kidnapped Riley!"

"_Stay where you are_," Ben instructed quickly, sounding scared, "_I'll be right there_."

--

Ten minutes later, Ben pulled up to the house. Abigail was waiting just inside the door, and when she heard the car, she rushed into her fiancée's embrace.

"Ben! I don't know what happened, or how. But – but Riley's gone, and there were obviously guns, and glass…"

Ben led the way back into their home and let Abigail show him what she had seen, using a flashlight from the car. When he asked her if she had checked upstairs, she shook her head, eyes wide.

"I – I've been waiting in the hall ever since I called you."

Ben nodded understandingly. "But did you ever think that maybe Riley is just unconscious somewhere upstairs, and he didn't hear you call him?"

"No…" Abigail admitted, blushing slightly.

They mounted the stairs slowly, both feeling like they were in a horror movie what with the flashlight and their careful tread.

"Look," Ben pointed at the wall directly opposite the stairs. Several bullet holes were clearly visible in the yellow wallpaper.

"Oh no…" Abigail whispered.

A further search of the second story revealed no Riley, and nothing else out of the ordinary, except that the window in their room was open when both remembered it had been shut.

"Maybe he climbed down the trellis?" Abigail suggested.

Ben nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe. I think it's time to call Sadusky."

--

Agent Sadusky of the FBI arrived with a team of agents a half hour later. They pulled up in squad cars with lights flashing and sirens blaring. They even brought two trained dogs.

"Sir, what are the dogs for?" Ben asked in surprise when the whole party burst in the front door and set to work.

"Over the phone, you told us you're not exactly sure what happened to Mr. Poole. If he escaped on foot, these dogs will be able to show us the way."

Both Ben and Abigail followed the dogs, two agents, and Sadusky out to the yard and over to the trellis. After carefully examining the grass, one of the agents nodded.

"Someone was definitely here," he said, pointing to a patch of trampled grass, "But we need a scent to determine the direction of travel."

Sadusky turned to Ben and Abigail. "You wouldn't happen to have anything of Mr. Poole's, would you?"

Ben began to shake his head, but Abigail nodded suddenly and sprinted into the house without a word. She came back with Riley's coat, which he'd left on the kitchen counter.

"Perfect." Everyone watched anxiously as one of the agents let both dogs sniff the coat. Then one of the dogs growled and they both took off, running across the grass towards the driveway. The others followed quickly.

The two dogs stopped at the same spot, just at the edge of the yard where grass met gravel. Agent Sadusky and the other two agents began to examine the area, but it was Abigail who found what they were looking for.

"Look!" she pointed, paling.

They looked. There was blood on the grass, presenting an odd red-and-green effect under the flashlight one of the agents was spotlighting the ground with. There was no doubt in the group who the blood belonged to.

Sadusky turned to Ben. "The trail stops here. Mr. Poole must have gotten into a car at this point. Do you have any known enemies, Mr. Gates?"

Abigail answered. "Only Ian Howe, from the Templar treasure hunt. But he's still in jail."

Sadusky shook his head, looking from Ben to Abigail meaningfully. "No, he's not. He and his accomplices escaped this afternoon."

Ben swore under his breath.

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A/N: Of course, we already knew this, right? Ben and Abby are soooo slow...just kidding! 

Sprecial preview for next chapter: Riley gets hurt, and a phone call is made. But you have to review to get an update!


	5. Threats

A/N: Longest chapter yet! And also my personal favorite so far, for some reason. Some violence in this one, but nothing too bad...yet. Thank you guys so much for your amazing reviews. I'd like to answer each one personally, but they all come at me so fast. When I have the time, I respond, but since I usually don't, just thank you to everyone. I'm beginning to think I should write in this genre more often!

As a note, I need some help with the next chapter, which will be the beginning of the involvement of Ben's parents in this adventure. I thought Patrick lived in Philadelphia, yet in Book of Secrets, it seems like he lives in Washington, D.C., since Ben was staying with him and was so close to all the adventure in the capital as well. Is Philly really close to D.C.? I'm confused. If anyone could shed some light on this subject, either PM me or include it in a review. Thanks!

On to the chapter!

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**Threats**

Riley woke suddenly, without remembering where he was or how he had gotten there. All he knew was that he felt like he was moving, and he was lying on an extremely uncomfortable hard surface. And he really had to pee.

"I think he's waking up," a voice spoke from right beside him, causing the young man to jump, startled. Soft laughter met this reaction.

Riley opened his eyes cautiously, and regretted it immediately as blinding light penetrated his pupils. He squeezed them shut again and emitted a soft groan as he remembered what had happened to him and whose company he was in now.

"Great…" he muttered into his arm.

"What was that, Poole?" the same man who had spoken before nudged him gently with a booted foot, and Riley realized the speaker was Phil.

"Maybe we should just shoot him and be done with it," another voice, Powell's, joined the conversation.

Riley sat bolt upright at that. Sharp pain shot through his head, and he yelped and clutched it as the others laughed unpleasantly at his discomfort.

"Oh, yeah, we forgot to warn you – you might have a slight concussion." Phil snickered.

"Yeah, thanks," Riley mumbled, opening his eyes again. As his surroundings swam into focus, he realized he was in the back of a van, on the floor. That would explain the hardness. Powell and Phil were sitting in folding chairs, each with a gun in his lap. The van was moving, which probably meant either Shippen or Ian was driving and the other was also riding in the cab.

"So – long time no see, huh?" Riley asked, folding his legs in front of him. "Are we on our way to a reunion party?"

Both men scowled at him.

Riley tried again. "You guys _still _work for Ian? After he got you in jail and everything?"

Powel frowned. "Shaw told us Ian would get us lots of money," he said confusedly.

"Yes, but that was almost two years ago," Riley pointed out, "And last time I checked, Shaw was lying dead at the bottom of a pit underneath a church in New York."

Phil leaned forward threateningly, gun in hand. "Look, Poole – if it had been my decision, you would be dead by now. Ian wants you alive for some reason, but he never said anything about unharmed. So I'd shut my mouth and pray I don't lose my temper if I was you."

Riley had a comeback to that, but before he could even consider spouting it, the dividing wall between the cab and the back of the van opened and Ian came in.

Riley's blood ran cold. None of Ian's minions really scared him; they were mostly stupid and their threats were empty. But Ian – Ian was another matter. He radiated power and almost seemed to demand fear. Riley hadn't forgotten how he always seemed to be facing the muzzle of Ian's gun one way or another. And this time, Ben wasn't there to save him.

"Riley. You look good for a guy with a concussion," Ian said cordially.

Riley smiled. "Why thank you, Ian. You look dreadful." Instantly, he regretted it, groaning inwardly as he reprimanded himself for, once again, his inability to keep his mouth shut.

Ian's smile disappeared. He knelt down so he was on level with Riley. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Poole. I think you'd prefer the easy way."

"Does the hard way involve guns?" Riley questioned innocently, unable to stop himself.

Unexpectedly, Ian smiled. "Yes."

Riley shivered a little. Ian had a crazed gleam in his eye, as if he was imagining the pleasure of using guns.

"And does the easy way involve me helping you do something illegal?"

"Yes."

Riley sighed. "There wouldn't happen to be a Door Number Three, would there?"

Ian swore and kicked the younger man hard in the stomach. Riley gasped and doubled over in pain, squeezing his eyes shut.

"…I'll take that as no."

"I think you'd better rethink your decision," Ian warned. "Door Number Three is not the position you want to be in."

"Evil gun-toting extremist," Riley muttered through clenched teeth.

"What was that?" Ian asked, his eyes glinting dangerously. Riley felt a cold chill of fear run through his body. This time, he anticipated the kick when it came, sending him right back into a tight ball on the floor, struggling to keep from crying out. That only seemed to anger Ian more, and he kicked Riley again and again until the techie finally let forth a whimper.

"I think you've learned your lesson for now," Ian said, backing off. Phil and Powell, who had been watching with a sick kind of eagerness, looked disappointed.

"What do you want?" Riley groaned, pulling himself into a sitting position despite feeling like several of his ribs were broken.

"I want the President's secret Book," Ian said simply.

Riley tried to look surprised, though he really wasn't. "The Book? It's a myth, Ian."

"Oh, I don't think so," Ian countered swiftly. "You wrote about it in your book, didn't you?" And seemingly out of nowhere, a copy of the book itself was produced. Ian waved it tauntingly in front of Riley's face. "I must admit, a good read, although I think you might have exaggerated the system beneath Trinity Church a little much. And the picture in the back…" Ian smirked as he displayed it to Riley, "…fame going to your head a little? Or did you really think that pose at all appealing?" Ian tossed the book carelessly to the floor. "So don't try to tell me the Book is a myth, Riley. I've heard the rumors about your little adventure and the City of Gold. I followed it all in the papers. The thing is, I believe them. Nothing is too awesome to be true when you're with Ben Gates."

"So why don't you just ask Ben about this Book?" Riley asked, biting his tongue as soon as he'd said it.

Ian's smile widened. "You know, I just might do that."

--

Back at the Gates mansion, Ben and Abigail were sitting in Ben's office. Rather, Abigail was slumped in a chair, and Ben was pacing anxiously back and forth. After some tinkering, the power had come back on, and both had changed into casual clothes. The FBI was still in the house, but downstairs, checking for fingerprints and other clues.

The phone on Ben's desk rang suddenly. He and Abigail jumped and exchanged a quick look before glancing at the door to see if anyone downstairs had heard the ring. Ben had a separate phone line for his office so that he could conduct business without tying up the main line. The only person, other than work, who ever called this number was Riley.

Simultaneously, the two leaned forward. The caller ID read, 'Riley's Cell'.

"Put it on speaker," Abigail whispered. Ben obeyed, answering the call cautiously with the pressing of a button.

"Riley?"

There was a soft laugh on the other end. "No, Ben – it's me."

"Ian," Ben breathed.

"How have you been doing?" the Brit asked lightly.

"Let him go, Ian," Ben growled, "This doesn't involve him."

Ian laughed again. "On the contrary, Benjamin, this is all about him. You involved him when you brought him along for the Templar treasure hunt. But I forgot – he's just the assistant, right? Did you ever even bother to _open_ his book, Ben?" There was a shuffling, and then Ian recited, "Dedication: 'To the man who's always been there for me, who never lets me down, who introduced me to the greatest time of my life and saved me from the ever-dreaded Cubicle. To the best friend a guy could ever have. To Ben.' Touching, isn't it?"

Ben didn't reply. Abigail glanced over to seem him frozen, his expression a mix of different emotions.

"So I'd say Riley is very much involved in this, for more than one reason," Ian continued, "Didn't he mention the President's Book in this book of his?"

Ben twitched suddenly, but he seemed unable to think of something to say. Abigail leaned forward angrily.

"Look, Ian, if you think we're going to get you the President's Book, you've-"

"Ah, Dr. Chase," Ian said pleasantly, cutting her off, "I thought you might be there. How have you been? Still with Gates? I'm sorry to say you made the wrong choice there. Ben always treasures treasure itself more than anything in his life. Other men would treat you better."

"You're despicable," Abigail spat.

"Sticks and stones," Ian reminded her. "So, Ben – what'll it be? Will you get me the 'Book of Secrets', as I've asked? Riley here might help as well with alarms and such, but I mostly need him as insurance. So you don't try anything…stupid."

Ben face twisted. "I want to talk to him," he said suddenly.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that. You'll have to take my word for it that he's still alive and mostly well."

"'Mostly'?" Ben asked in alarm. "Ian, I swear to God, if you've hurt him…"

"Nothing he won't get over, with time."

"I want to talk to him," Ben insisted, "I don't believe you. Why should I believe you? You haven't earned my trust."

"And I don't need it," Ian replied. He was silent for a moment, but then he gave in. "You can talk to the geek briefly, just so you see I'm telling the truth." There was a shuffling noise, a threat in Ian's voice that neither Ben nor Abigail could quite make out, and then Riley came on.

"Hey, guys."

"Riley!" Ben said with relief. "Are you okay?"

"Other than having a gun aimed at my head, and a few bruises, yeah, I'm fine."

Riley's voice was controlled, but Ben knew the guy too well. He could tell that Riley was hurt worse than he was letting on, and he could also tell that Riley was really terrified behind his normal dry tone.

"Listen, Riley, it's going to be fine. We'll figure out some way out of this."

"I know, Ben," Riley said, "I know you will."

The total faith in Riley's voice was almost too much for Ben, and he squeezed his eyes shut. There was a moment of silence, but then Ian broke it, returning to the phone.

"So you see, Ben, he's fine…for now. But if you don't do exactly what I tell you to, he is going to get hurt. I can promise you that."

Ben sighed, momentarily defeated. "What do you want me to do?"

* * *

A/N: Reviews are like food to authors. 


	6. Throwing the Feds

A/N: Once again, thanks to everyone for their overwhelming reviews! It won't be too much longer until this story holds my personal record for the most reviews, and this is only the sixth chapter, counting the trailer.

This chapter is regrettably a filler, but there should be more excitement in the next one. As to the location of Ben's parents, I decided they live in D.C., because it was easier on me that way.

* * *

**Throwing the Feds**

Ian closed the phone and looked down at Riley.

"You're in luck. Ben's decided to cooperate."

Riley glared up at him. "Ben would never give you the Book. He'll have a plan."

"I hope not – for your sake." Ian aimed a kick and laughed when Riley cringed. "See you later." And he disappeared into the cab.

Riley eased himself over to the wall, wincing at the pain from his bruised ribs. He wrapped his arms around his knees and leaned back, doing his best to ignore the two henchmen watching him. _Please Ben…have a plan._

--

"Come on," Ben urged, hurrying around his office and throwing things into a duffel bag – files, papers, even a miniature safe.

"What are you doing?" Abigail wondered.

"We have to go. You heard Ian. He wants the Book."

"Even if we could manage to get the Book, Ben, we can't just hand it over to Ian! That book would do more damage in his hands, far more, than the Declaration of Independence!"

"I'm not really going to give it to him," Ben explained. "Especially not after seeing page forty-seven," he muttered.

Abigail's ears perked up. "Page forty-seven?" When Ben didn't reply, she coaxed, "You know that I'm as much a part of this as you are, Ben. If Ian wants page forty-seven, both Riley and I have a right to know why. Especially Riley."

Ben sighed, and nodded. "In the car. I'll tell you on the way. First, we've got to get past the FBI."

"Well, we can't go down the stairs," Abigail reminded him. "They're all over the place down there." She began to smile. "Maybe – maybe we can use Riley's way…"

The trellis had been abandoned for the moment. Abigail climbed down first, and then Ben threw his bag down and followed. Unfortunately, there were several agents on the driveway, blocking Abigail's car in the garage. And then there were the squad cars.

"We can use my car," Ben whispered. "We'll have to make a run for it, but we can do it. I think I can get around all the police."

They crept around the backside of the house. It would take several yards of running in open air to reach the garage, which thankfully was open.

"On the count of three," Ben said, his eyes on the agents. "One…two…three!"

They took off, sprinting to the garage and ducking inside. By some miracle, they had not been seen. Ben threw his bag in the front seat of his car, and they both climbed in.

"We did it!" Abigail took a deep breath.

"Not yet," Ben countered. "Buckle up, and hold on tight." He suddenly stomped on the gas, throwing the car into reverse and spinning around in the gravel. The agents shouted, unsure what to do.

Ben didn't slow, grinding tire on gravel as he took off, detouring on the lawn to avoid hitting anyone or anything, then continuing down the drive.

--

Sadusky came out of the house, calm compared to the chaos around him. Agent Hendricks didn't seem surprised, either, sighing as he followed his boss.

"Sir! Should we pursue?" a young agent asked, practically bouncing up and down beside his car. Sadusky was reminded of a less intelligent version of Riley Poole.

"Negative," he called out. "Gates isn't under arrest. Why should we treat him like he is?" Truthfully, Sadusky wasn't at all surprised at Ben's getaway; working with the FBI had never been Ben's thing, so it was only natural he would find a way to shake them. He wasn't worried, either. Ben was smart, and he knew this Ian Howe better than anyone. If he thought he knew what he was doing, he probably did.

"Good luck, Ben," he murmured, gazing into the dust cloud left behind.

--

Once they were out on the streets of D.C., Ben slowed down. He kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, a muscle in his jaw twitching. Abigail watched him for a few minutes.

"Where are we going?" she asked finally.

"To get the Book, of course," Ben replied without meeting her gaze.

"Ben…we can't just break into the Library of Congress at this time of night," Abigail coaxed. "The police would be all over us. They've probably changed all sorts of pass codes. The only person who might be able to get us in there is…" And she trailed off, because they both knew who.

Ben sighed. "I know." He murmured. "I-I didn't really think. I just knew we had to get rid of the FBI."

"Maybe, if we tried going in the morning…" Abigail suggested. "When the library is actually open. It would be like last time, except we wouldn't have anyone after us for kidnapping the President. The only trouble is, I'm sure the codes have been changed." She chewed on her lip thoughtfully.

Ben's cell rang, making them both jump. Ben glanced apprehensively at the ID, and then his face cleared somewhat. "It's my Dad." He answered. "Dad?"

"_Ben, where are you?"_

"What do you mean, 'where am I'?" Ben said evasively. "Why should I be anywhere at this time of night? Uh – morning?"

Patrick sighed. _"We saw the news, Ben. It's everywhere. That Ian Howe escaped, and then right after that was a bulletin about a Riley Poole going missing, believed kidnapped. Your mother and I can put two and two together. We called your house, but they said you left. Now, where are you, and what's the plan?"_

Ben rubbed a hand over his face. "We're on the road, Dad. We have to get Ian the President's Book."

Emily's voice suddenly took over the line. "_The President's Book? So it _is_ real, then. Benjamin, would you care to explain what you're trying to do?"_

Ben sighed. He knew there was no point in trying to leave his parents out of it. They had always been, and would always be, involved. "I'll tell you," he promised. "But not over the phone. This is classified information."

"_Come on over," _Patrick invited. _"We're up. Something tells me none of us is going to get any sleep tonight."_

Ben ended the call and placed his phone in the cupholder.

"Well?" Abigail asked impatiently.

"We're meeting them at their house. I promise I'll tell you about page forty-seven when we get there. I can even show it to you. There's a picture on my phone."

Abigail nodded and settled back in her seat.

Ben was wide awake now that he had a purpose, a place to start. His father was right. There would be no sleeping tonight.

* * *

A/N: Well, that might be true in their case, but as for me, I'm going off to bed for some much-needed R&R. I hope to get the next chapter up by Friday or Saturday, so review to motivate me! 


	7. The Legend Revealed

A/N: Hey, guys! Sorry for the late update - I know I said I would update almost a week ago, but some of my relatives came down this past weekend, and then Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday my school had auditions for _Grease._ I made callbacks! Yay.

On the down side, this is not very much of a Riley-chapter. Sorry, I love him, too. On the up side, I am very, very proud of this chapter. I spent a long time doing research - another reason for the late update. I tried to get all my facts straight, hope I succeeded!

* * *

**The Legend Revealed**

The van slowed and stopped. Riley, who had half fallen asleep leaning against the wall, started awake. The back doors swung open. Ian jerked his head toward Riley.

"Bring him."

Phil and Powell grabbed Riley and hoisted him out of the van, flanking him on either side as they approached a small brick house-like building. Their grip was tight, allowing no chance of escape. As if he could even run – it took all Riley had just to walk without gasping in pain from his ribs. Out of the corner of his eyes, he took in his surroundings. There wasn't much to see. The building was in the middle of nowhere. It was still the middle of the night, and so too late to really see what was around, but it looked like fields.

Riley was pulled inside and shoved into a room that contained only a mattress and a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. There was no window.

"Sleep tight, Riley," Ian sang from the doorway. "In the morning, it's down to business."

They left him alone then, shutting the door and locking it with a snick. Riley sighed and sank onto the mattress. As soon as he laid his head down, he was fast asleep.

--

Ben and Abigail reached Patrick and Emily's house in record time. Barely pausing long enough to lock the car door behind him, Ben hurried to the front door, ringing the doorbell. Abigail followed at his heels.

Emily peered through the pane of glass to the side of the door before unbolting it and ushering her son and his fiancé inside.

"Patrick's waiting in the dining room. We get the best light there."

Once the four were clustered in chairs around one end of the table, Patrick's laptop poised for whatever it might possibly be needed for, Ben took out his phone and placed it on the tabletop.

He looked around, locking eyes with his mother, father, and Abigail in turn.

"Not to sound cliché, but what you're about to see is top secret, classified information. Not to be repeated to anyone. If the President knew that I was telling you…the consequences would be disastrous. Not saying he isn't going to find out anyways because of all this, but don't tell _anyone_, okay? Except Riley," Ben swallowed, "when the time comes."

Everyone nodded seriously. Ben opened his phone and sifted through its contents for a few minutes. Then his face cleared; he'd found what he was looking for. He attached a cable to the phone and plugged it into the PC. A window popped up on the screen, and he was taken through several instructions before an enlarged version of the photo of page forty-seven appeared. As one, Abigail, Patrick, and Emily leaned forward.

"It's…it's in Spanish." Abigail said disappointingly. "I don't speak Spanish."

"I do." Patrick broke in. His eyes skimmed the photo for a few moments. "It's a poem." He read aloud:

_A tale of Coronado old_

_The legend writ, the story told_

_Seven cities of endless wonder_

_Secrets of valleys torn asunder._

_From seven men_

_These stories came_

_Not one of them_

_Is known by name._

_Spanish conquerors moving north_

_To follow destined paths set forth_

_To wander, seek, but never find - _

_Their heart's desire plagued their mind._

_Gold, riches, jewels, and plunder_

_Disappeared, went down under_

_Niza's lies were unbelieved_

_The quest for fortune was relieved._

_Hidden chart lies behind_

_The truth the ancients could not find_

_Follow clues but keep alert_

_Finest senses must assert._

The silence in the room was deafening. Then Abigail turned to Ben, a pained expression on her face.

"Another treasure?"

"Sounds like it." Ben nodded, his mouth twitching at her displeasure.

"A tale of Coronado old…" Patrick muttered thoughtfully.

"You've heard that name before?" Abigail asked.

All three Gates turned to shoot her disbelieving looks.

"You _haven't_?" Ben asked.

Abigail flushed. "Well, no. Who was he?"

Ben stood and began to pace the room. "Around the year 1150 A.D., the Moors conquered Merida, Spain. As legend goes, seven bishops fled the city to save themselves and prevent the Muslims from obtaining sacred relics. They fled far away, to lands not yet discovered. Some believe they went to what later became the American Midwest. Centuries later, stories of the Seven Cities of Cibola and Quivira-"

"Wait - Cibola?" Abigail asked, her eyes widening.

Ben smiled. "Yep. Cibola. As I was saying, stories of seven cities of legendary riches, one for each bishop, were passed to Spanish conquistadores from Native Americans. Several expeditions were made northward into present-day New Mexico, Texas, and Arizona, but no one ever found any of the cities. In 1540, Francisco Vasquez de Coronado began an expedition, taking a monk called Marcos de Niza as his guide. It's said they reached Arizona, where Coronado realized Niza had been lying all along – they could find no treasure. As the story goes, a later explorer, Garcia Lopez de Cardenas reached further, to the Colorado River and the Grand Canyon. But no cities were ever found." He flopped into his chair, triumphant.

"No cities were found because it's only a legend, Ben," Emily sighed.

"Only a legend?" Ben rolled his eyes. "Cibola wasn't a legend, Mom. We found it in Mount Rushmore, remember?"

"Well…" Emily seemed unable to come up with a response.

Abigail was fascinated. "That story checks in perfectly with the poem. And 'Niza's lies were unbelieved' because the Spaniards stopped trusting him and what they perceived as lies?"

"Right," Ben affirmed. "Now, we know Cibola exists, so why shouldn't these other cities? And there's no sold proof that Coronado didn't in fact find traces of one or more of them in his travels. He may have even found some treasure. History that goes back as far as this legend does is often changed in the process."

"'Hidden chart lies behind'…" Patrick mused.

"A hidden map?" Abigail suggested. "But behind what?"

Ben shook his head helplessly. "I don't know. Maybe if we had the actual book?"

"Then we get the actual book," Emily said.

"This rhyme could refer to any of the cities." Patrick sighed. "How do we know we're not just going to follow a different path to Cibola?"

"We won't." Ben said. "The clue is in mentioning Coronado. Coronado supposedly found a settlement by the name of Quivira – the same name as one of the hidden cities. Cibola and Quivira are the two most famous of the seven. They are often mentioned in the same sentence. Even…two parts of a whole."

Patrick gasped. "It can't be! You mean…"

Ben nodded. "Cibola was only some of it. There's another part to the treasure."

* * *

A/N: So, what did you think? Review, and make my weekend. No promises for next update, but I hope very soon! 


	8. Hacking

A/N: I'm no longer in the contest, but that was never a deciding factor on whether I'd continue my story. I love it too much! Plus, I never abandon what I submit. Congratulations to the three who won - I'm reading your stories, and can't wait to read more!

Riley chapter!!! Yay. Some more violence, but still minor.

* * *

**Hacking**

It seemed to Riley that he'd only been asleep for two minutes when he was shaken roughly awake.

"Mmm…Mom, five more minutes…" he murmured.

There was a very un-mother like snort.

"Time to get up, sweetheart," a voice cooed.

Riley's eyes flew open, and he bolted upright. Phil stood over him, an amused glare on his face.

"What do you want?" Riley asked.

"Ian wants to have a talk with you. Follow me."

Not seeing that he had any choice, Riley stood and followed Phil into the main room. Powell was leaning against the wall, his glare boring holes into Riley's face. Ian was sitting at a lone table in the center of the room, typing away at a laptop. Shippen was nowhere to be seen.

Ian looked up and smiled. "Riley," he said cordially, shutting the laptop and moving it aside. "Take a seat."

Riley hung back, but Phil jabbed him with what Riley could only assume was his gun, so he cautiously stepped forward and slid into the table's free chair. Ian leaned across the table toward the techie.

"How did you sleep?" he asked.

Riley was taken aback. He didn't quite know what to say to that sort of inquiry. It wasn't what he expected from a man who had once tried to kill him and had kidnapped him.

"Fine…" he responded carefully.

"Ribs feeling better?"

Riley's eyes narrowed. "What do you care?"

Ian's smile was replaced by a sneer of annoyance for an instant. Then he grinned again. When he spoke, his tone was both friendly and threatening.

"I need you to do something for me, Riley."

Riley was instantly on alert. "What?"

"It shouldn't be hard for you. It's something to do with computers, you see. Your specialty."

"Why would I do anything to help you?"

"Because you want to live to see tomorrow," Phil growled, stepping forward. Ian waved him off.

"Because no matter what Ben thinks, he won't be able to get into the Library of Congress restricted rooms without your help."

Understanding dawned. "You want me to turn off the security in the library."

Ian nodded. "Ben should be getting ready to go there now. I'd say we have an hour, at the most, before your friend finds himself behind bars for breaking into an off-limits area. Unless you can help him."

Riley sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He hesitated. Turning off the security would help Ian get the Book, but on the other hand, it would help Ben avoid being arrested. To help Ben, he'd have to help Ian. Ugh.

"Okay," he nodded wearily.

Ian opened the laptop and pushed it toward Riley.

"Don't try anything," he warned.

Riley laughed weakly. "Like what? Call for help? I have no idea where we are." His fingers flew across the keyboard, blue eyes scanning the readings that were popping up rapidly. Ian leaned in, obviously impressed despite himself. "Enjoy the show. I'll be here all week," Riley muttered, teeth clenched in concentration.

After only a few minutes, he had successfully hacked into the library's computer system.

"We're in."

"Can you turn off the alarms?" Ian asked.

Riley shrugged. "I could, but I'm not going to."

"Excuse me?"

Riley sat back shaking his head. "If I turn off the alarms, security will be alerted. Same thing if I turn off the cameras. You think they won't notice if their screens suddenly go blank?" Noticing the angry expression on Ian's face, he quickly amended. "There is something I _could_ do. When Ben and I broke into the Archives to steal the Declaration, I messed a little with the cameras there. I got into the wiring and replaced the live feed of the hallway with recorded feed. The only problem is, I was physically present that time. I'm not sure I can do something like that from here."

"You'd better try."

Riley sighed, but sat forward again and got back to work. It took a little longer this time, but within ten minutes, he was done.

"Okay…we're through. We got lucky. They had a recorded video already entered into their mainframe. Someone got lazy and didn't switch tapes from yesterday. The feed is all set to play. One small flicker on the screen, and security will be looking into the past."

Ian smiled triumphantly. "Good."

The outside door opened, and Shippen came in, carrying several bags of McDonald's.

"Breakfast," Ian announced, relieving Shippen of one of the packages. He took out a few hamburgers. "Hungry?" he asked Riley.

"No," Riley said, just as his stomach grumbled. Ian smirked.

"Come on. It isn't poisoned, I promise," the Brit coaxed.

Riley stood up. "The day I eat anything you give me will be the day the world ends," he spat.

Ian's good humor disappeared. "Fine. Phil will take you back to your room, then."

Phil shoved Riley toward the room he had slept in last night. Riley eyed the front door. Shippen hadn't closed it all the way, and freedom mocked Riley in the sunlight shining through the crack. His reasonable half told him not to run. He was in the middle of nowhere, he was injured, and Ian and his men had guns. But his adventurous half told him to take the chance. Riley made a split second decision.

He ran.

Dodging a shouting Phil, he flew out the door, ignoring the screaming protests his ribs were giving him. There was nothing as far as the eye could see, nothing even to hide behind. He heard running behind him, and then gunshots.

Crap.

Lungs burning, he kept going – until he felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his ankle and crumpled to the ground. Feeling slightly woozy, he looked for the source of the pain. A bullet had nicked the outside of his ankle, and he was bleeding from the wound.

Riley groaned. He hated the sight of blood. It always made him want to barf. The pain wasn't helping, either.

Seconds later, rough hands hoisted him off the ground and dragged him back inside the house. Ian's stern face swam in and out of focus in front of him.

"Riley, Riley, Riley…I'm disappointed in you. Very disappointed."

A fist came out of nowhere, and Riley felt more pain before he blacked out.

* * *

A/N: Poor Riley. He tried. Do any of you guys hate it when the bad guy is "disappointed" in the good guy? That always gets to me...so I had to use it! 

I'll try to get the next chapter out soon, but I have a feeling it's going to take at least another week. I was home sick from school today, and I'm going to be pretty busy in the days coming up. I'll do my best! Keep those awesome reviews coming!


	9. The Biggest Library in the World

A/N: Sorry for the long-ish wait, everyone! I really intended to get a new chapter up around Wednesday or so, but there's a nasty bug going around my school, and I caught it. Right now, I'm sitting here blowing my nose nonstop and eagerly awaiting lying down for some much-needed R&R. But I really wanted to get this up, so here it is. Kind of a long chapter compared to some of my others...but still not too long.

Sorry, no Riley in this chapter! He'll be in the next one, promise! This is the Library of Congress chapter. I'm not too sure about it...I may add little revisions later, when I feel better.

As an added note, I have a pretty funny story: My friend and I were joking about how it would be hilarious if we learned about Coronado in history class, since my legend in this story is centered around him. And then, wonder of wonders, he shows up in our book. No joke. So then we thought it would be funny if we had a question on our quiz about it, because we were sure to get that one right. Nothing is too incredible - one of the questions on our quiz asked the name of the Spanish explorer who was looking for the seven legendary Cities of Gold. Yeah. I kind of freaked out.

* * *

**The Biggest Library in the World**

It was nine o'clock, and Ben, Abigail, Patrick, and Emily were making the last preparations for the "break-in" at the Library of Congress. None of them had had any sleep in twenty-four hours. The evidence of this was shown on the the dining room table, which was littered with Coke cans and mugs once filled with highly caffeinated coffee. It had been difficult to stay awake all night, but now that the time had come, they had each been awarded one last spurt of energy to keep them awake for at least a few more hours. Hopefully.

"Now, we know the plan, right?" Ben said, stuffing his father's old Polaroid into a black camera bag. He and Abigail were both wearing casual tourist outfits so that they wouldn't stand out from a crowd.

"_What _plan?" Abigail joked, tying her hair up. "As far as I can see, we go in, get the Book, and get out."

"True," Ben shrugged.

The "plan" was, in truth, hardly a plan at all. Patrick would drive Ben and Abigail into the city, and he would park a few blocks from the Library. Then Ben and Abigail would walk the rest of the way, mingle inside for a few minutes, and slowly work their way over to the restricted area. They would wait until someone came out of the door and go in and up the stairs. This was where main problem Number 1 could occur: If the code had been changed in the upper door, they would not be able to get through it. That kind of thing was Riley's forte, not theirs. They would only get one chance to punch the code in, and if they were wrong, the alarm would go off.

The next step was simple: Go in, assume the Book had not been replaced on a different shelf somewhere, enter the code, get the Book, and sneak back into the public areas and out the door, rejoining Patrick and calling Ian for the next step. If the cameras caught them and the alarm was raised, they would run for it.

There were a million problems with this plan. Two million. But there was nothing they could do about it. Maybe if they'd had more time, a better plan could have been conjured. But there was no such time - every minute they hesitated was another minute Riley was in Ian's power.

Ben had finally convinced his mother to remain behind at the house, in case they needed a contact with a phone book and Internet. His other reason was that he didn't want to put either of his parents in danger again. This was why he and Abigail would avoid Patrick's car if the police were called on them, and do their best to escape on foot. If they were arrested, there was the last hope that Sadusky would be able to intervene. But even he would have to report to the President about the stolen Book, and by the time it was all sorted out, Riley might be dead. It was better not to think about that.

"Let's go."

They filed in silence to the car. Emily followed them onto the driveway, pulling them each into a hug.

"Be careful," she ordered them. "And call me as soon as you get it."

The drive to the Library was silent. Patrick kept his eyes on the road, his hands clenched on the steering wheel. Ben, who could read his father's emotions, knew that he was upset. Patrick had grown rather fond of Riley over their adventures together. He hung around so much he was like a second son. Ben had seen the same look in his mother's eyes as they'd left. She, too, was very worried, both for her son and future daughter-in-law, and for the surrogate son she'd all but adopted. Emily's view on treasure-hunting had not changed since she'd gotten back together with Patrick – she hated it, but cases where someone's life was at stake were different.

Abigail sat in the backseat, her face in her hands most of the way there and her leg jiggling anxiously. Despite the fact that she and Riley often got in fights, he was her best friend and little brother rolled up in one. Ben knew she would follow him to the ends of the Earth if it would get Riley back safe and sound.

Ben himself glared out the window, his eyes seeing not the scenery, but Riley's face. His mind drifted back to a week or so ago, when he and his friend found themselves on the steps in front of the Lincoln Memorial, their favorite place to sit and talk. Ever since the finding of Cibola, Riley would not stop pestering Ben about Page 47 in the President's Book. Even though Ben reminded him that the President was adamant about it remaining a secret, Riley would not let it go.

"_You know I can't tell you, Riley. That's between me and the President."_

"_For now."_

How right he was. Ben was almost sure that eventually Riley would somehow have figured out what the secret was on his own, but now there would be nothing for it but to tell him the truth straight out. The same way Abigail and Patrick and Emily had been clued in.

The thing was, Ben knew he couldn't just give Ian the Book. Even if Ian only wanted what was on Page 47, Ben could not just hand over a Book with that many secrets in it. Besides, Ian had never expressly mentioned wanting Page 47 in the first place. Perhaps there was something else he wanted it for. Another secret. Ben hoped not. There was enough to worry about as it was. He wasn't sure how he would manage to rescue Riley and keep the Book from Ian at the same time. There was a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him saving his friend was only the beginning.

"Ben…" Abigail's voice pulled him back to the present. They had arrived at their destination. Patrick was pulled over to the curb and was watching his son with something like concern on his face.

"Are you okay?" Abigail asked.

Ben shook himself mentally. "Let's just do this."

He and Abigail climbed out of the car. Abigail adjusted her purse strap, and Ben pulled the camera bag onto his shoulder.

"Good luck," Patrick mumbled, obviously not happy with sending the younger couple into danger while sitting out himself.

"We'll be back as soon as we can," Ben reassured his father. "If you hear sirens…go straight home to Mom." Then he nodded at Abigail and they started briskly in the direction of the Library.

Three minutes later, they turned the corner and saw the grand building just across the street. Together, they hurried up the wide steps, trying to look natural as they joined the flow of other people on their way in and out.

Once inside, two pairs of eyes zeroed in on the section of the library they knew was where they needed to be. But the plan had to be executed perfectly, so they wandered over to a counter and flipped aimlessly through the stacks of pamphlets. Ben's eyes couldn't help occasionally roaming the room. As they swept over to the research center, he had a sudden flashback of Riley leaning eagerly forward, glasses perched on his nose, book in hand.

_"Okay, Ben, pay attention. I've brought you to the Library of Congress. Why? Because it's the biggest library in the world. Over 20 million books. And they're all saying the same exact thing: Listen to Riley."_

The remembrance stabbed Ben like a knife. When had he _truly _listened to Riley? Even when Riley was so sure the President's Book existed, Ben hadn't been able to believe him purely on faith. Instead, he'd gone to Sadusky. Riley had been right about the Book in the end. It was hidden in the very building where, just two years before, Riley had asked Ben to listen to him. To trust him. And now, irony of ironies, they were back, this time to rescue the techie. Suddenly, Ben didn't like the Library of Congress at all. He wanted out. But he shook himself and returned his gaze to the pamphlets, thankful that Abigail hadn't noticed his short lapse in composure. There would be time to angst and apologize later, when Riley was safe.

The next six minutes dragged by. Then Ben caught Abigail's eye and they abandoned the rack, casually making their way over to the restricted door. Ben pulled a book off the shelf and flipped to a random page. Abigail leaned over his shoulder and pretended to read. The wait seemed to take forever, but finally the door clicked open behind them. Abigail turned and flashed the exiting man a winning smile; he was so flustered that he didn't notice Ben had replaced the book on its shelf and swiftly put his foot in the door.

As soon as they were alone, Ben opened the door wider and allowed Abigail to slide past him. They took the stairs two at a time, feeling their nerves begin to tighten. If anyone saw them now, they would be in trouble.

Abigail reached the door before Ben. She hesitated, her hand half-stretched to the code panel.

"What if we're wrong?" she whispered, her eyes wide as she contemplated the possibilities.

"We have to try." Ben reached over her shoulder, took a breath, and punched in the series of numbers the president had given him, which were handily engrained in his brain.

A moment frozen in time – and then a green light and a positive buzz.

"We did it!" Abigail whispered, an incredulous smile lighting her face. Ben pulled the door open and they went in.

It was easy this time – they knew exactly where the Book would be. Ben led the way, sliding a ladder over to the spot. Eagerly, he pulled down the books blocking the secret compartment, handing them to Abigail, who dumped them on a nearby table. And there it was. The digitized lock; hopefully, the only thing separating Ben and Abigail from their bargaining chip.

Ben slid the numbers to their respective places, hardly daring to breathe. As the last digit slid into place, there was a click, and the compartment popped open, a tray sliding out from the middle.

It was empty.

Abigail breathed a few choice words in German. Ben only stared, disappointment welling up inside him. They'd taken the risk for nothing. The Book wasn't here. Ben turned around on the ladder and met Abigail's gaze.

"The President must have moved it. After what happened last time. He knows I know the codes and location, and didn't want it to be accessible." Ben sighed in defeat and stepped back onto the ground. "We'll have to think of something else. Let's go before they see us."

"Give me a second," Abigail insisted. She took Ben's place on the ladder, running her fingers inside the compartment, her brows furrowed in concentration. Then she started. "Ben – Ben, there's a seam!"

"What?" Ben tried to climb up beside her, but the ladder was too narrow. Abigail frowned, her fingers grasping. Then she pulled – and a side of the compartment swung open. The President's Book fell out into Abigail's hand. She turned triumphantly.

"Got it."

Ben breathed a sigh of relief and took the Book from her, tucking it into his coat pocket. Then Abigail closed both compartments and Ben handed her the books to hide the lock.

"Come on," Ben urged. They opened the door cautiously, slipping through it when they saw the stairwell was empty.

Now was the most crucial part of the heist. It would be almost funny if they got caught on the way back – especially since no alarms had been raised. All it took was one librarian to notice that they didn't belong in this area, and they would end up busted. But luck was on their side. They reached the final door without incident, and stopped, knowing that they could open the door only to find someone on the other side. Of course, there was probably a back way out, but Abigail had already pointed out that someone might notice if they didn't leave the library through the front door. It wasn't extremely probable, but the chance was there.

They locked eyes. Abigail nodded, and Ben pushed the door open. Thankfully, no one was anywhere nearby, and they hustled quickly away from the door into the more crowded areas of the library, exchanging exultant glances.

Ben took Abigail's hand.

"It's okay. We're through." He whispered.

Which was, of course, when the alarms started going off.

"Ben!" Abigail's eyes were panicked as she clung to his jacket.

"Let's go!" Ben shouted to be heard. The rest of the library was panicking and they joined the general surge toward the doors, clasping hands. They were swept into the streets with everyone else, but when they tried to break way, they found themselves hemmed in on all sides by curious passerby. The alarm continued to go off, but it struck Ben suddenly that security had not run after them. Police sirens became audible in the distance, and were soon joined by the wail of a fire engine.

"Abby…" Ben began, turning to his fiancée.

"Ben – I don't think the alarm went off because of us…" Abigail realized. Ben nodded in agreement. He turned to a woman next to him, who had been in the library and was holding tightly to the man next to her, probably her husband.

"Do you know what happened?" he asked loudly.

The woman nodded. "I think someone was smoking in the lady's bathroom. I was back there, and I know I smelled_ something_ funny. Then the fire alarm went off. Oh, dear, I hope there isn't really a fire…"

Ben and Abigail turned to each other, close to laughing in glee. Of course, the Library of Congress being on fire was no laughing matter, but compared to what they had feared, it was a huge relief.

"Come on," Ben began to push his way through the crowds, Abigail in tow. "My dad will have left like we told him to. Let's get somewhere quieter, and we can call him and my mom and tell them what happened."

* * *

A/N: Mah...definitely not my favorite. But tell me what you think! 


	10. Plans to Meet

A/N: This update didn't take as long as usual! We had a Snow Day today, so I didn't have any homework to do tonight. I hope you enjoy this somewhat-filler chapter. At least it's got Riley, right?

I am overwhelmed by all the reviews!! This story holds my record at only nine chapters! With this addition of a tenth, I'm hoping to reach 100. This story is on a lot of favorites and alerts...I know who isn't reviewing! Please do! When I reach a hundred, all my reviewers get Riley plushies, autographed copies of Riley's book, and cookies! Any kind you want.

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**Plans to Meet**

Ian waited calmly for Ben's call. He knew it would come, because he knew that one way or another, Ben would have gotten the Book. He would rather die a slow, painful death than leave his friend in enemy's hands any longer than necessary. The Brit's lip curled into a sneer just thinking about how stupidly loyal people could be.

He glanced over at the unconscious figure on the floor. Riley's wrists were tied, and a spectacular purple bruise was forming on his cheek. To stop him from bleeding to death, Phil, the only somewhat-medic in the group, had treated the wound and bandaged the techie's shot ankle in several layers. The first bandage was blood-soaked; another had been added over it. Riley had been asleep for two hours now. Ian enjoyed the blessed silence. Riley had always annoyed him almost to the point of insanity.

The phone in Ian's hand rang. He glanced at it; Ben. Of course. He flipped the phone open.

"Ia-"

"He has guts, I'll give you that."

Ben's greeting cut off abruptly. "What do you mean?" he asked suspiciously.

"He tried to escape," Ian said casually, again glancing over at the unconscious Riley. "But we got him back."

"Ian…what did you do to him?"

"Nothing permanent. But he's probably in pain right now. If you can be in pain when you're knocked out."

Ben hissed something under his breath. "You said if we cooperated you wouldn't hurt him."

"I don't recall ever saying that, Ben. Besides, if you weren't cooperating, he'd be far worse off than he is now. As it is, I've only taken necessary action."

"Which would be?"

"Besides a few bruised ribs from our first encounter, he has a magnificent bruise on his check and a gunshot wound in his ankle."

There was a hard thud, as if Ben had punched the wall. "Ian! We've got the Book, okay? Let's set up a meeting time, and then Riley will be out of your hair."

"That's what I wanted to hear." Ian heard a shuffling sound, and, turning, saw that Riley was slowly waking up. He shifted and opened his eyes, blinking blearily down at his tied wrists.

"Whuzz goin' on?" he asked fuzzily.

"You're in luck, Ben. Riley decided to wake up now."

"He-what? He's up? Let me talk to him!" Ben pleaded.

"Riley, Ben wants to talk to you," Ian shoved the phone into the techie's hand. Riley's eyes found Ian, and his jaw tightened. He tried to cross his legs, but yelped when he brushed his injured ankle against the floor.

"You might want to be careful," Ian warned, a little late. Riley glared at him and spoke into the phone.

"Ben?"

"Are you okay?" were Ben's first words. Riley laughed shakily.

"No."

"Look, Riley, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

"I shouldn't have tried to run," Riley observed, examining his ankle carefully.

Ian snorted. Riley ignored him.

"We got the Book," Ben said, "And we're going to meet Ian wherever he wants us to. And then we'll get you looked after. You'll be safe in just a few hours, Ri."

"I don't think it's going to be that easy, Ben. You know it won't."

Ben was silent. He and Riley both knew what Riley couldn't say aloud. That Ben couldn't really give Ian the Book and walk away.

"We'll get you out," Ben said finally. "If I have to stay behind and get you away with Abigail, that's what we'll do. Just try to do what Ian tells you to until then, okay?"

"I'll do my best. See you." Riley held the phone out to Ian, who took it.

"Where do you want to do this?" Ben asked.

Ian smiled. "Heere at the wall, Ben. Be there by six this evening – without the police."

-

Ben hung up the phone and sighed, turning to his parents and fianceé.

"Well? Well where does he want to meet?" Abigail asked impatiently.

"He said 'heere at the wall.'"

"Trinity Church."

Ben nodded. "At six o'clock tonight." He glanced at his watch. "It's eleven-thirty now. It's about a four-and-a-half hour drive to New York, more with traffic, so we need to leave in the next fifteen minutes. We can't be late, and I'd prefer to be early."

Abigail nodded. "We'd better take some supplies…just in case." She scooped her purse off the table. "Emily, could you help me pack?"

When the women had left the room, Patrick turned to Ben.

"I don't like this, Ben."

"No one does," Ben said. "But we can't do it any other way."

"It isn't that. I wish you would let me come with you."

Ben groaned inwardly. "Dad, I know how you feel about us going off without you, but I made a promise that I wouldn't put you or Mom in danger again. Besides, we need you here, in case something goes wrong and we need help. We aren't keeping you out of it - I promise I'll call. I just think it's easier this way. Ian doesn't need more people to threaten, or he'll feel threatened himself."

"Which wouldn't be a bad thing," Patrick muttered, but in the tone of one who knows they've been defeated. He glanced around to make sure he and his son were still the only people in the room, then stepped forward and spoke conspiratorially. "And the riddle? The treasure?"

"Riley comes first," Ben said firmly. "And then, if I can, the treasure."

"Ian will go after it." Patrick said matter-of-factly.

"Ian won't get the map if I can help it."

Abigail reentered the room, a black backpack slung over one shoulder. "I packed some water bottles, a couple flashlights, and some snacks." She announced.

"What do you two think you will be _doing_?" Emily wondered aloud, her brow creased. "I thought you were going to a church?"

Ben and Abigail exchanged glances.

"We are," Ben assured his mother. "This is…just in case." He turned to his fiancée. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah." She hugged her future mother-in-law. "Don't worry. We'll be fine."

"Good luck. And be careful!" Emily hugged her son as Abigail hugged Patrick.

"We may spend the night in New York, but we'll definitely call. By tomorrow afternoon, everything will be back to normal." Ben said, speaking with much more confidence than he felt.

He and Abigail trooped to the front door and out to Ben's car. The Gates parents didn't follow as they climbed in.

Abigail sighed as the car started. "Will we ever get any downtime?"

Ben smiled sadly. "Not while I'm around."

The blonde bit her lip. "Do you think this is going to go smoothly?"

"I hope so," Ben replied. But he had a feeling it wasn't going to be that easy.

* * *

A/N: Do you think Ben's right? I would guess there's a resounding "YES!" echoing at me from all sides...Review for the next chapter. They really do motivate me.


	11. This Car Smells Weird

A/N: I reached 102 reviews, and this means everyone gets a Riley plushie, a copy of Riley's book, and your choice of cookies! Yay! Seriously, thanks go out to all of you guys, you rock.

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**This Car Smells Weird**

"Let's go," Ian instructed his henchmen as soon as he hung up with Ben. They instantly began to pack supplies into backpacks, completely ignoring Riley, who remained on the floor, resisting the urge to shift and move his leg.

"Where are we going?" he inquired loudly, unsurprised when no one replied. "Hello? Anyone?"

Ian scowled at him. "If you aren't smart enough to figure it out on your own, I'm not going to bother to tell you."

Riley sat back, trying to remember what Ian said to Ben that had sent little recognition bells off in his head. "Here at the wall…here at the _wall_…_heere_ at the…Trinity Church!"

Ian rolled his eyes and turned away, which Riley took as an affirmative. For the next ten minutes, he sat as still as he could. He considered trying to get out of the ropes binding his hands, but came to the conclusion this wouldn't be the best idea when he was surrounded by people who took pleasure in hurting him.

Finally, Ian sent Powell and Phil over to get the techie. They hoisted him up, keeping firm holds on his arms. Riley attempted to stand and hissed when his ankle protested, sending sharp pain shooting up his leg.

"I suppose you won't be running again anytime soon?" Ian smirked.

Riley gritted his teeth and allowed his escorts to practically carry him outside and to the van, making sure to keep his left leg out of contact with the ground. Because his wrists were bound and he only had one working leg, he could provide virtually no support for himself. He let them lift him inside the van, then staggered to the wall and slumped carefully to the floor.

Phil and Powell climbed in again, and the back doors were shut. After a moment, the van started up and took off. Riley gritted his teeth every time they hit a bump, struggling not to cry out. Neither of the other two men spoke; Powell was playing with a pocket knife and Phil was polishing his gun with his jacket.

_Lovely people_, Riley thought sarcastically. He had barely gotten comfortable before the van lurched to a stop and the back doors were thrown open once more. Riley blinked in the sunlight, but all he saw were more fields. It appeared that they hadn't gone far.

Shippen leapt into the van, and this time he and Powell got Riley outside while Phil retrieved a couple bags from the interior. A black car was parked by the side of the road. Shippen slid inside the backseat, and Powell shoved Riley in after him. The techie stumbled and practically fell, catching himself on the headrest of the front passenger seat at the last minute. His ankle protested this sudden movement, and Riley couldn't stifle a small whimper as he settled into the middle seat. Powell climbed in on his other side, and then Shippen got in the driver's seat and Ian the passenger's, and they were off.

"This car smells weird," he commented after a moment of silence. He saw Ian grit his teeth, but the Brit didn't say anything, clearly hoping Riley would just shut up.

Riley sighed. All he wanted to do was sleep. He was exhausted, hungry, in pain, and definitely not loving this whole 'kidnapped' thing. And there was one other thing.

He really, _really _had to _go_.

--

"Ben, we _have _to make a stop soon!" Abigail demanded, putting a hand impatiently on her fiancée's shoulder. "You look half-crazed! You need to let me drive for a little while, and try to get some rest. Nothing's going to happen to Riley if we make one, quick little detour. We've got plenty of time to get there."

"Abigail, we can't stop!" Ben complained, not taking his eyes off the road. "We can't be late!"

"We're only two hours away, Ben, and it's only 2:30! You haven't let us stop once!"

"We stopped at Burger King," Ben argued.

"That was the drive-thru, and we were just out of D.C. Ben, please pull over. I need to stretch my legs, and _you _need to get some sleep."

Ben glared at the asphalt road ahead of him. He knew, by the way the yellow lines were flying by beneath him, that he had to be going well over the speed limit, but he didn't care. He also knew Abigail was right about needing a break, but he didn't care about that, either. He only cared about getting to Riley, getting Riley to safety, and then beating the crap out of Ian.

"Ben…"

He sighed. "Fine. Next rest stop, we get out for a couple minutes and then you drive."

She smiled, satisfied. "Good."

Twenty minutes later, Abigail was in the driver's seat and Ben was slouched beside her.

"Abigail, you're not driving fast enough!"

She sighed. "Ben, I'm going five miles over the speed limit. If we get a ticket, it'll only delay us getting to Riley. I'm trying _not _to break the law twice in one day, okay? Don't be a back-seat driver. And for heaven's sake, _get some sleep_!"

Abigail herself had snatched a couple hours of dozing along the way, until she'd woken up and decided to nag Ben about switching her places so he could try to do the same. Ben couldn't believe Abigail could even sleep at a time like this, and was convinced he was not going to be able to.

But the leather seat _was _strangely comfortable…

--

"Ben…_Ben_!"

Ben's eyes popped open and he sat up, yawning. He looked around him, confused until he saw Abigail watching him and remembered everything that had happened. He glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard.

5:45.

"Abigail! Why didn't you wake me up earlier?" he squawked.

"You needed the rest." she replied.

Ben looked out the window. They were parked on the side of the road, and after a moment he realized they were just a block down from Trinity Church.

"How long have we been in the city?" he demanded.

She shrugged. "A while," she admitted. Her cheeks turned red, and she held up something from her lap. "I-I've actually been reading Riley's book to pass the time."

Ben's mouth opened to ask if it was any good, but the clock turned 5:46 out of the corner of his eye, and he sprang into motion.

"We need to get going. I want to be waiting for them when they get there." He reached into the backseat and grabbed the backpack Abigail had thought to bring, which had grown much heavier with the addition of Riley's laptop and some other interesting-looking gadgets. "Let's go."

He led Abigail down the sidewalk and around the corner, where the church came into view. No one was waiting outside it, nor was there a car parked nearby. Ben let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"They aren't here yet," he said. He sprinted across the street with Abigail at his heels, and they both withdrew slightly into the shadows, keeping a watchful eye on the street for approaching vehicles.

Time dragged on. Finally, when Ben's watch read 6:02, a black car pulled up and parked across the street. After a moment, the front door opened and Ian climbed out.

"It's time."

* * *

A/N: Indeed it is. What's going to happen inside Trinity Church? You can only find out if you press the little button down there beside the "Submit Review" panel that says "GO". 


	12. Trinity Church

A/N: Less than a week this time! No specific reason, except that I'm going to NYC this weekend and seeing my two favoritest musicals, Wicked and RENT! So I'm hyper. And yes, I do know 'favoritest' is not a real word. Lol. Fun-fun. Longest chapter yet!!!

Funny little note: In this chappie, Ben calls Ian a 'prig'. My friend and I thought it sounded like a good insult...and then we looked it up in the dictionary. And found out that it usually refers to an old, unmarried woman. Um. On the plus side, it is also a British verb for a thief. So I actually think the word is rather appropriate!

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**Trinity Church**

Ian approached Ben and Abigail slowly, a smirk etched across his face. Ben's insides boiled – it was the first time he'd laid eyes on his traitorous ex-friend in nearly two years, and his hand itched to smack the smile right off the Brit's face. Abigail seemed to know this, and put a warning hand on Ben's arm as their enemy drew even with them.

"Ben, Dr. Chase," Ian said genially.

"Ian," Ben spat through clenched teeth. His gaze passed over to the parked car. No one else had gotten out, though Ben thought he could see other people silhouetted inside.

Ian noticed. "Why don't we go inside? The hour is late enough that we should have privacy."

"Not without Riley." Ben insisted. Abigail nodded emphatically.

"Of course," Ian waved toward the car. "They will follow us in a moment. Shall we?"

Grudgingly, they followed him into the church. Nothing appeared to have changed since their adventure two years ago. The sanctuary was empty, and the last rays of sunlight streaming in through the stained glass windows cast a colored glow on the wooden pews. Ian chose a seat on the left side, in about the ninth or tenth row. Ben sat beside him in the pew and Abigail sat in front of her fiancée.

"The Book?" Ian inquired.

Ben swallowed. "Not until we see Riley."

At that moment, the doors opened again behind them, and four figures came in. Two of them seemed to be supporting a third.

"Riley…" Abigail whispered hoarsely.

He didn't look good. His whole left cheek was purple and yellow, and his lip was split. It looked like he'd been punched hard. He was practically being dragged along, though he never let his left ankle touch the ground. Ropes bound his hands in front of him. As they approached, Riley's eyes flicked up to Ben, and he managed a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Hey, guys."

Ben swung around, seizing Ian by the collar.

"You prig! I swear, I will kill you-"

"Ben!" Abigail warned, pulling at his sleeve. Ben turned in confusion. Powell had produced a gun from nowhere and it was pressed to Riley's head. The techie was visibly shaking.

Ben released Ian as if he'd been burned, never taking his eyes off Riley. Ian, whose expression had not changed, picked a piece of lint off his shirt and reseated himself on the pew. Powell slowly replaced his gun. Riley relaxed a little. He looked up at his captors.

"How come you guys are so obsessed with using guns?" he whined.

Somehow, Ben knew the show of humor was Riley's way of telling his friend he was alright. Ben wasn't convinced. He reluctantly sat back on the pew. Powell and Phil dragged Riley into a seat across the aisle, and Shippen sat just behind them.

"Now, Ben – the Book." Ian ordered.

Ben reached into the backpack at his feet and pulled out a brown paper bag. He slowly turned it upside down, and the Book fell out into his hand. Ian's eyes gleamed. He reached out an expectant hand.

"Wait a minute," Ben said. "How do I know that when I give you the Book, you won't just shoot us all?"

Ian laughed. "Why would I want to do that?"

"We did sort of put you in jail," Riley called over, but Phil elbowed him, and he fell silent.

"Oh, I won't deny that the way I feel about you all is…less than friendly," Ian shrugged. "But I'm a reasonable man. I told you, Ben – I just want the Book. You have my word I won't shoot you. Besides, what choice do you really have?"

Glancing around, Ben knew he was right. He was sure all of Ian's guys had guns, and even if, by some miracle, he and Abigail could get away, Riley was sandwiched between two enemies, and there was no chance of him escaping. Leaving him behind was something Ben would never do. He sighed and handed over the Book.

Abigail released a barely audible sigh as it changed hands. She and Ben exchanged a worried look. What now?

Ian examined the cover, fascinated. He slowly opened it, and the pages automatically fell to page forty-seven. Ben glanced at Abigail in horror. Her eyes widened. During the car ride, Abigail had perused the Book for a short time, and at one point she'd stuck a paper clip in to keep her place. And forgotten to take it out.

"Interesting…" Ian murmured, his eyes scanning the page.

"You can – you can read Spanish?" Ben asked with a sinking heart, trying to look as though he'd never seen the page before.

Ian rolled his eyes and fixed Ben with a penetrating stare. "Ben, do you think I'd believe the _President _left a paper clip in here? You were looking at this. And of course I read Spanish. It was my language all through college, and I've used it before in my profession." His eyes narrowed. "You don't?"

"No," Ben admitted.

"And yet this page interests you..." Ian mused, with the air of someone who knows the truth but wants it to be admitted to them. "And interesting, Ben – this is a poem. A poem that mentions a _treasure_."

"Is it?" Ben continued to play innocent, grasping at the last strands of cover he had left.

Ian stood, shaking his head. "Oh, Ben. You never could bluff. Now, I need you to tell me everything you know about this treasure."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ben said desperately, rising also.

Ian's nostrils flared, but his cool look did not change as he arched an eyebrow. "Oh really?" He jerked his head over Ben's shoulder. There was a click, and Ben turned to see that Riley once again had a gun at his temple.

"Stop it, Ian!" Abigail said angrily, leaping up.

"He'd never do it," Ben said uncertainly.

Ian's face darkened. "Don't test me," he replied quietly.

"Whatever he wants Ben, don't tell him!" Riley pleaded. "You can still get out of this safely-" The rest of his sentence was lost as Shippen clamped a hand over his mouth, and though the techie struggled against his bondage, Phil and Powell held him down, both pointing their guns threateningly at him.

Ian turned to Ben. "_Now_."

Ben hesitated. There was a long, drawn-out moment where nobody did anything, but then the treasure hunter nodded in defeat, slumping back into his seat.

"Read me the first few lines," he instructed, closing his eyes.

"A tale of Coronado old/The legend writ, the story told/Seven cities of endless wonder/Secrets of valleys torn asunder." Ian recited.

Ben nodded. "Referring to Francisco Vasquez de Coronado, and the fabled Seven Cities of Gold."

Ian nodded slowly. "I've heard of those. Cibola, of course, is one of them. The only one ever found. Next four lines – From seven men/These stories came/Not one of them/Is known by name."

"Legend tells us of seven bishops who fled Spain to preserve sacred relics when the Moors conquered Merida. They founded the seven mythical cities. Next?"

"Spanish conquerors moving north/To follow destined paths set forth/To wander, seek, but never find/Their heart's desire plagued their mind."

Ben sat up, opening his eyes and staring up at the ceiling of the church. "Many Spaniards, including Coronado himself went looking for this treasure, but they never found it." He turned to Ian. "I remember the rest. The stories of the treasure, because it was never found, slowly became less and less popular. Marcos de Niza had been the guide of many of these expeditions, but people stopped believing him. The last part, I suppose, refers to the location of a treasure."

"One of the cities?" Ian asked.

Ben nodded. "Specifically, Quivira, the second most well-known city of the seven."

Ian sat down next to Ben, his eyes fixed on the Spanish poem. "What's this about 'hidden chart lies behind?'"

Ben shook his head. "I don't know. We couldn't figure it out." He stood again. "Now I've told you what I know, Ian. Let Riley go, and give me the Book. You can't use it anymore."

Ian appeared to think about it for a moment, and then he nodded slowly and handed Ben the Book. "We keep Riley until we get to the car. Just in case you've brought the police after all."

Ben wanted to protest, but he knew it would be futile, so he took Abigail's hand and obediently followed Ian out of the church into the quickly fading light. Riley and the others followed right behind them. They followed Ian to the car. He turned away for a moment, and when he faced them again, he held a gun, which he pointed at Ben. Ben jumped back, startled, shoving Abigail protectively behind him.

"What are you doing?" Ben asked angrily.

Ian opened the back car door, and Powell and Phil moved forward, hustling a fiercely struggling Riley between them.

"Ian, let him go!" Ben shouted, at the exact moment Powell punched the techie hard in the stomach. Gasping, Riley doubled over, and in a matter of seconds he was in the back of the car. Disregarding the gun barrel aimed at his head, Ben moved forward to help Riley, but Shippen whipped out his own gun and aimed it at Abigail.

"Step back," Ian warned.

"You said-!" Ben exclaimed, his eyes flashing.

"Do you really think I'd let you get away that easily?" Ian sneered. "Yes, you got me the Book, but what about the clues, Ben? I'll need you to decipher those. You have a lead on the clue on page forty-seven. I'm keeping your friend as insurance that you figure out that clue, and continue to figure them out. The longer it takes, the more Riley's safety is at risk. Call me when you get the first clue, Ben. And it had better be soon."

And before Ben could react, Ian had climbed into the car, Shippen had shut the door on his own side, and they pulled away and were lost in the dark, taking Riley away once again.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for doing this to y'all! But yes, 'tis true. I am sure you all now want to kill me...but reviews, or death threats, would still be welcome. 


	13. Pipes and Promises

A/N: Many apologies for the almost-one month wait! This time of year is really busy for high schoolers, as I'm sure many of you understand. Not only that, but I have two other stories in-progress, and I have to devote time to those as well. But thank you for sticking with me, and don't kill me for making this another cliffhanger!

* * *

**Pipes and Promises**

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Riley sighed and rolled over. He hadn't noticed the pipes in the ceiling the night before – what with his sudden kidnapping and hunger pangs, he had been too exhausted to make much sense of anything. The pain was much worse tonight, but there was a lot to think about. And so the pipes dripped on, seemingly content to play all through the night. For a fleeting moment, Riley remembered the movie _Chicago_, which Abigail and Jackie had once forced him and Ben to watch. One of the songs had begun with a leaky sink, a noise nearly identical to the pipes. There had also been footsteps – cell guards.

_I wonder where Ian's were when he escaped._

Ben hadn't liked the movie. He said it was historically inaccurate.

"There were too many stars on the flag!" he raved. "And they didn't hang people by that time period – it was the chair!"

"Oh, that's better," Riley remarked dryly. "You'd rather see a woman electrocuted." Followed, naturally, by a demonstration.

Riley smiled upon remembering that night, but the smile slipped off his face when he thought about the events of the past evening in New York.

After the relative fiasco at Trinity Church, the techie was shoved into the car, where he huddled miserably between Powell and Phil. His abdomen was screaming at him, as being punched really did not help his already damaged ribs. He was sure some of them were cracked, or even broken, by now. His ankle and face throbbed. Not to mention he was faint from lack of food. Basically, _everything _hurt.

After about a half hour of driving, Shippen pulled into a gas station. Ian turned menacingly to Riley.

"Now, Riley, we're going to take a bathroom and dinner break. I'm going to untie you, and you are going to act completely normal and not draw attention to yourself. Or else."

_Or else what? _Riley wanted to ask. But he only nodded, rubbed his chafed wrists, and meekly followed the others into the bright station. Powell stood guard outside while Riley occupied the bathroom. Then they entered the adjoining Subway. Riley considered refusing food again, but he knew he would need his strength for whatever lie ahead, so he accepted the footlong sandwich and Coke Ian handed him and tried his best to keep from scarfing it down too quickly. They ate in silence. Riley kept stealing glances at his captors to figure out what they were thinking, but it was rather hard to tell the emotions of four guys in sunglasses (to avoid the possibility of being recognized). Riley himself got several looks, but they were still close to the City, and oddities in New York were…well, not as odd. Guys got in fights all the time.

The ride home was quiet. Riley dozed off more than once, only to jolt awake before he ended up leaning on one of the men flanking him.

Now, back in the Middle-of-Nowhere house, Riley listened numbly to the pipes dripping, giving in to the fact that it had to be at least two in the morning and he was not likely to succumb to sleep anytime soon.

He had been _so sure _that he was saved. That Ben would take him home, that the treasure would be forgotten in light of the recent events. But that was stupid. Ben hadn't, after all, traded the Book for his friend. He hadn't begged Ian to let Riley go.

_Hmm…Benjamin Gates, actually begging…not seeing it._

Inside, Riley knew Ben couldn't just let Ian have something that important – but the seed had been planted. What was it that Ian once said?

"_Ben always treasures treasure itself more than anything in his life."_

It was true.

Angry tears stung Riley's eyes. After everything he had done for his friend…Ben always looked to Riley for assistance, for back-up. And Riley was always there for Ben. But now, when Riley needed Ben most, _he_ wasn't there.

"What now?" Riley asked himself bleakly.

--

"What do you mean, _they took him_?" Papers fluttered wildly to the ground as Emily jumped up, glaring at her son.

Ben fell into a chair, massaging his temples. He found himself unable to form coherent words to answer his mother.

Abigail took over, relating the story of what had occurred in New York. Why they still had the Book, but not Riley.

At the end, Patrick swore, and three pairs of eyes flickered to him in surprise. "He's twisting the rules!" Patrick growled. "Changing them for his own purposes."

"'Twisting the rules?'" Emily said angrily. "Patrick, this is not a game!"

"I know that!" her husband replied hotly. "But Em, I've met this guy. He kidnapped me once, remember?"

"And we should be glad he didn't hurt you like he's obviously hurt Riley!"

"He didn't have to! Ben had what he wanted that time – the knowledge of the clues to the Templar Treasure. This time, we don't yet _have_ what he wants. He's a dangerous man, and he knows that as long as he has a bargaining chip, he can change the rules as much as he wants. It _is _a game, in a way. To him!"

"Emily, Patrick!" Abigail interjected before they could continue their banter. "What's most important now is that we figure out the next clue, all right? Then we're at least one step closer to getting Riley back."

They grudgingly settled back down, and Abigail pulled the Book out of her purse, glancing at Ben, who had been silent ever since walking in the door. He was sitting hunched forward in his seat, his face hidden in his hands.

"Here," she handed the Book to Patrick. "Translate the last four lines, okay? I need to talk to Ben." She then grabbed her fiancé's hand and pulled him into the kitchen. "Honey? What's wrong?"

Reluctantly, he met her eyes. "The look on his face…"

"What look, sweetie?" she asked, caressing his cheek gently.

"When they dragged him off…that look…As if we'd betrayed him." And with a tortured grimace, he clamped his mouth shut.

Abigail sighed. "Riley knows we care about him, Ben. He knows we'd never leave him behind." When her reassurance did not get a response, she tried another angle. "Look, the sooner we get that clue, the closer we are to getting Riley to safety."

Ben looked up, resolved. "I promise I'm going to get him back, Abby. Whatever it takes."

She nodded, smiling. "I know."

He straightened. "Okay. Let's have a look at it."

They linked hands and moved back into the family room. Patrick and Emily were huddled together on the couch, both gazing at the Book.

"What is it?" Ben asked, leaning over his parents.

They looked up at him, smiling.

"Ben," Emily said. "Your father and I thought of something. What if 'hidden chart lies behind'…indicates a hidden map on the back of this very page?"

* * *

A/N: So...review?


	14. Hidden Chart Lies Behind

A/N: Again, terribly sorry for the wait. I hate high school. Actually, I like it, just not the work piled on us tenth graders. I had a National Treasure themed birthday party, though!! Yay. And no cliffhanger this time. But no Riley, either. After this, and probably the next chapter, I don't anticipate there to be any more going back-and-forth. Everyone (with the exception of Ben's parents) should be together at once. I hope.

* * *

**Hidden Chart Lies Behind**

Ben lay his elbows on the desk, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I don't get it. I really thought it was going to be here."

His tone reminded Abigail and Patrick of the time they had been under Trinity Church and had gone through yet another empty treasure room. Bewildered, disappointed…It was no wonder why. The three, plus Emily, had spent the better part of the night scanning the back of page 47 (page 46) for any sign of a clue. They used all kinds of equipment, magnifying glasses – even lemon juice. But nothing worked. There was simply nothing there.

Around four in the morning, the quad had agreed to get some sleep and reconvene later in the day. Now it was almost noon, and they were at a loss as to what to do. At his son's angry statement, Patrick exchanged a worried glance with his wife, who was cleaning the brunch dishes for lack of anything better to do.

Abigail put a hand on her fiancé's shoulder. "We'll figure it out. It has to be here somewhere!"

"But what if it isn't?" Ben said angrily, standing and pacing. "What do we do then?"

No one had an answer.

They were startled out of the tense silence by the cheerful ringing of Ben's cell, lying on the table. Ben swallowed as they all stared at it in trepidation. Then he slowly reached forward.

"It isn't Ian," he muttered, and with considerably less anxiety, answered.

"Hello?"

"_Ben?"_

"Sadusky?"

"_Ben, the FBI got a call this morning from an anonymous source out in Pennsylvania. They say they saw a utility van with tinted windows driving out into the fields towards a house we've traced to a man named Paulson. Mean anything to you?"_

"No…" Then Ben remembered Phil telling him once, when they were still on the same team, that he had a sister married to a Paulson. "Yes! One of Ian's cronies had a connection to that name. Why?"

"_Well, from the caller's description, the van had tires that leave treads like the ones we found in your front yard. It could be nothing, but-"_

"But you're going to follow up on it, right?" Ben said eagerly. "Sadusky, I'm telling you this with the trust that you won't try to intervene in our plans, but I know for a fact that Ian was in New York yesterday. So we know he's still on this side of the country, and that lead seems suspicious to me!"

"_The FBI gets hundreds of tips every day, Ben. This could be nothing. Some kind soul watched the news and decided to call in. But we'll look into it, as discreetly as possible."_

"Thanks, Sadusky." Ben said in relief. "Wait – Riley's on the _national _news?"

"_All over the eastern half of the nation, at least."_ Ben could almost hear his friend smiling_. "This is a big deal.. A criminal escapes from jail, and the very same day one of the people who foiled his plan is forcibly taken? No one would be dense enough to consider that purely coincidental. I'll bet that when you get Mr. Poole back, safe and sound, he'll be getting lots of phone calls from eager well-wishers. I'll call you if anything new surfaces. Just be careful, Ben."_

Ben hung up and smiled at the thought of how Riley would react to phone calls from lots of potentially pretty girls. He explained what Sadusky had said to the others.

"I hope they're careful…" Abigail sighed. "I don't like to think what Ian might do if he finds out the FBI is on his tail."

Ben cringed inwardly, but straightened up resolutely. "We _have _to find that next clue! I know it's here somewhere, I just can't put my finger on it."

He picked up the Book, staring hard at the page as if the answer would magically appear. Then he dipped a Cu-Tip in a saucer of lemon juice and gingerly dabbed it on the corner of the page. Abigail made a move as if to stop him, but restrained herself. Ben leaned forward to blow on the wet spot and stopped short.

"You don't think…" he murmured to himself. Instantly, the other three were leaning over his shoulder.

"What is it?" Emily asked.

"It looks…it looks like…well, _look_!" And he took hold of the page and peeled it backward. Emily let out a cry at her son's apparent ripping of the page, but no – pages 46 and 47 had been stuck together, back-to-back. In-between, there were two blank pages.

"Hidden chart lies behind…" Patrick muttered in disbelief.

Abigail had caught on, and she took the Cu-Tip from her fiancée and ran it gently along the right hand corner of the spread. Sure enough, a symbol appeared there. Eagerly now, but still with the precision she was paid for, the blonde wetted the rest of the blank page and the one beside it, while Ben applied the hairdryer.

"This scene is oddly familiar," he remarked dryly. "Same table, same concept, you and me…"

Abigail smiled at him sadly. "But not quite the same people."

When they had finished their handiwork, the couple stepped back to get a look at what exactly had been revealed.

It _was_ a chart, of sorts. There were symbols, at least, but they were not labeled, and there wasn't a key. And off to the side was written...

"Looks like another poem," Patrick said. "Spanish again."

"I'm gonna go call Ian," Ben said, standing abruptly. "You get to work translating that, Dad. And copy down the chart, too." He pulled his cell phone out, hurrying into the living room.

_We're going to get you back, Riley._

* * *

A/N: I know, I'm lazy. Short chapter, didn't even bother revealing this new poem or the purpose of the map. So shoot me. And never get any more, ha.

As a note, I believe I used the term 'spread' in here once or twice. That's just my yearbook vocab kicking in. A spread is what two facing pages in a book, magazine, etc. are called.

Review?


	15. One Step Closer

A/N: Okay...I know I don't deserve your forgiveness or understanding, but I'm asking anyway...PLEASE DON'T KILL ME! -sob- I'm super sorry for the long wait! I definitely didn't mean for it to be like this. It's just finals, and AP tests, and then an 18 day trip to Europe...and this pathetic, short excuse for a chapter isn't much of an apology. But read it anyway...pweeze. -Riley puppy-dog eyes-

* * *

**One Step Closer**

Ian was typing steadily on his PC when his cell phone rang from its place on the table in front of him. Never the type for personalized tones, when his phone rang, it let out the ordinary jingle. He recognized the number instantly.

"Gates?"

"_Ian,_" Ben sounded excited. "_We found the next clue."_

"What was it?" Ian asked, turning away from his laptop and listening closely.

"_We don't know, exactly. It was a chart of some sort, just like the first clue said. We're working on deciphering it. Now, where do you want to meet?"_

Ian thought. "I think, since we're fairly sure we're looking for Quivira and it won't be terribly far from the site of Cibola, that we should meet out west. And why not make it Mount Rushmore? Tomorrow, at noon. And if you bring anyone other than Dr. Chase with you…you know what will happen."

"_Fine," _Ben said. _"Just don't hurt him."_

"No promises," Ian hung up. He stood, stretching his legs and nodding at his henchmen. "We leave tomorrow. I don't want anything left here, understand?" When they nodded, he went down the hall to Riley's room and unlocked the door.

Riley lay on his back on the mattress, but his eyes were open and he sat up when Ian came in.

"We're going to meet them tomorrow at Mount Rushmore," Ian told him.

Riley's face lit up. "They figured out the next clue?"

The Brit nodded. "It appears so." He was opening his mouth to say more when Phil burst into the room, his gun in his hand.

"Ian – we've got trouble."

Ian drew his own gun. "What kind of trouble?"

"Police trouble."

Ian spun on Riley.

"I didn't do it!" Riley protested, his eyes wide with fear. "I swear!"

Ian shook his head and turned back to Phil. "It doesn't matter now. How close are they?"

"Too close. Shippen got the van running, and Powell's getting some things together."

Ian nodded, thinking fast. "We'll have to make a quick getaway." He bent over and yanked Riley to his feet. The techie gritted his teeth in pain.

"Don't do anything stupid."

Riley managed to nod as he was pulled down the hallway. They paused before the front door, but then Phil flung it open and they made their way quickly to the waiting van. Riley was puzzled; he didn't hear sirens, or see any cars coming up the road. Yet the others seemed in a great hurry. He was thrust into the back of the van as Phil climbed in behind him, and then the vehicle screeched to a start and took off with a violent lurch. Riley was thrown to the floor, slamming against the metal wall. He couldn't stifle a cry of pain.

Powell and Phil were holding on for dear life, so they had escaped Riley's unhappy jostling. Powell grinned.

"Good thing we got that police scanner, huh? Knew they were coming right away!"

Riley groaned. Great. His butt hadn't been saved because of a police scanner. He lodged himself in a corner of the van and eyed the door. In all the confusion, it had remained unlocked. It was _so close_. It would be so easy to dive for it, wrench the door open, and roll out. Sure, it would hurt. But with the police coming…would they risk coming back for him? It might be his only chance of escape.

Phil, as if reading Riley's thoughts, pulled out his gun and waved it warningly at the techie. "Don't even think about it."

Riley sank back with a sigh.

--

Ben leaned over the chart and the newly-translated passage. "Another riddle of sorts," he said, reading aloud to his fiancée and parents:

_Carved by the river that winds between_

_Many shadows left unseen_

_Ancient tribes called this place home_

_Friend and foe, birth and tomb._

_Explored by many_

_Known by few_

_Cardenas' tales were not untrue._

_Untold riches lie ahead_

_Buried underneath the dead_

_Do not stray from yonder path_

_Or find yourself in nature's wrath._

_Only the just can find their way_

_Or where it is the gold will stay._

He sat back.

"Wow."

Abigail absentmindedly twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "But – but it's so _obvious_!" she exclaimed.

Ben nodded thoughtfully. "I know."

Patrick was confused. "I don't understand."

Emily sighed in exasperation. "Patrick, were you ever any good in geography?"

Her husband defended himself. "Hey, I translated that in the first place, so I deserve a break for once!"

Ben pressed on, ignoring his parents' bickering. "The first bit is obvious. Rivers often carve out mountains or ravines, so that's the first clue. Ancient tribes inhabited these ravines, camping out in caves. Okay. Same with 'friend and foe, birth and tomb' – this place was both a place of life and a place of death. Cardenas – remember Garcia Lopez de Cardenas? He reached the-"

"Grand Canyon!" Patrick supplied suddenly.

Ben smiled. "Exactly. The Grand Canyon."

What about the rest of this?" Emily gestured to the remainder of the poem. "This bit about 'buried underneath the dead?'"

"Well," Ben said thoughtfully, "The natives must have built graveyards for their dead among the rocks and caves somewhere. My best guess is that that's what it means. Canyons are often dangerous, so the poem is warning to stay on safe ground. And 'only the just can find their way' may refer to a series of tests, riddles or something, at the entrance to the treasure."

Patrick held up the Book, pointing to the chart. "And this must be some kind of chart to find the treasure in the Canyon."

Abigail nodded, impressed. "So…you should call Ian again."

"Right. We need to go to Arizona."

* * *

A/N: Yes, I quite understand how easy that was. But I wrote the rhyme, and I really liked it, and I can't think of anywhere else they need to go. I certainly don't have a long path full of clues and artifacts planned out like in the first movie!


	16. Best Friend?

A/N: Yay, a quick update! I love them. Especially when you write most of the chapter at early hours of the morning. Whoops. I think everyone should like this chapter - it's longer! And we get some much-needed venting from Riley. You'll see...

Also, I've never been to the Grand Canyon, so I'm just making things like geography and such up, based on photos.

* * *

**Best Friend?**

Riley felt his stomach heave as the van screeched through yet another sharp turn. It wasn't as if he'd never been in a car chase before – heck, he'd driven in one. But it was a different matter when you were in the back of a vehicle with no seatbelt and limited handhold options, with two men with guns that would go off with the slightest slip of a finger, _and _you were already injured. Speaking of injuries…he glanced down at his ankle. The wound hadn't been hurting nearly as much as Riley had always imagined a gunshot wound must when watching movies. Judging by the appearance however, he hadn't technically been shot, the bullet simply grazed his ankle. Still, it _burned_, and from the little Riley knew about infections, he guessed he might be getting one despite Phil's bandaging. Not much he could do at the present moment…but if they were truly going out West, he didn't look forward to traipsing all over rocks and mountains, his other wounds nonwithstanding.

His bowels churned again, and before he quite knew what was happening, he'd thrown up Subway all over the metallic floor. Oh.

"Great!" Phil yelled, eying the bile angrily, as if it were at fault for coming out. "Just great!" He staggered forward, struggling to keep his footing, and tossed Riley a towel. "Try to clean it up a little, will you?"

Riley glared at the Hispanic man, but as he crawled forward, he retched once more.

Phil danced out of the way, looking disgusted, while Powell watched, his nose wrinkled.

The wall slid open and Ian came in.

"We think we've lost them-"

"Ian, we have a bit of a situation here," Phil announced.

Ian's eyes fell to the pasty-faced Riley and the pool of vomit next to him. He rolled his eyes and snatched a nearby bag, dumping its contents on the floor and thrusting the bag into Riley's face.

Riley took it with trembling fingers and stuck his face into it, coughing and heaving once more, though now there wasn't anything left to come out. After a moment, he emerged from the container, his face slightly less pale.

"Are you finished?" Ian asked coldly.

Riley nodded, his eyes dropping to the mess on the floor as he edged away from it.

"Clean it up," Ian told Phil, pointing to the towel.

Phil's jaw dropped. "I didn't make it, why should I-"

"Do you want him to get sick again?" Ian asked, raising an eyebrow. Phil shook his head sullenly, and the Brit disappeared into the truck's cab.

"How was I supposed to know the kid gets carsick…?" Phil grumbled, gingerly mopping at the soiled area.

Ian returned to the van's rear, a water bottle in hand. He handed it to Riley.

"Thanks," Riley murmured, twisting the cap and taking a long draught. He avoided Phil's murderous gaze.

"As I was saying, we lost them," Ian announced. "I just got a call from Ben telling us the new clue referred to the Grand Canyon, so we're headed for Arizona instead. We meet them tomorrow at the entrance to the park."

As he nodded to himself, Riley's stomach dropped again, and somehow he didn't think it had to do with carsickness. Something was wrong.

--

Ben paced back and forth in front of the Grand Canyon National Park information lodge. It was almost noon, the meeting time Ian had arranged the day before. Ben didn't like waiting; the plane ride had been nearly unbearable, but it helped to see that Abigail too was antsy, and unintentionally short with the flight attendants. Now, however, the blonde sat calmly on a bench, watching her fiancée's agitation.

"Ben, relax. Ian won't have done anything to Riley. He'll be here. You know that."

Ben sighed. "I know. I just keep remembering his face…" He fell heavily into the seat beside Abigail. "Almost as if he'd lost hope."

--

"We're here." Ian announced from the front seat of the rented Escalade as it rolled to a stop in a sandy parking lot.

Riley glanced out the window. He'd never been to Arizona before, much less the Grand Canyon. Never one for hot weather, he suddenly wished he was visiting for pleasure. The view he saw was breathtaking, even from inside a car and squashed in the middle of the back seat.

"Come on." Phil helped Riley out of the car.

The techie had cleaned up en route in the bathroom of Ian's private plane, which he could only guess was part of Ian's "nearly unlimited resources." After washing his face and splashing water through his hair, followed by a quick finger-comb, his head looked okay. The dried blood flaked out, at least, though now Riley was getting sharp headaches. The bruise and lip couldn't be helped, so he was now officially the participant in a domestic fight, according to Ian. There was nothing to be done about the shadows underneath the younger man's eyes from lack of sleep, either, but no one was going to look that closely. Riley's clothes were still okay, even though they stunk. His jeans were torn where the gun had ripped through them, but, again, no one would notice.

The group of five made their way slowly towards the visitor's center. Squinting in the sunlight, Riley thought he could make out Ben and Abigail out front. He was surprised when that didn't make him feel any better.

Surprised when he felt a rush of anger charge through him instead.

_What' s wrong?_ Half of him asked. _Ben's your best friend. He wants to rescue you. He came. Doesn't that matter to you?_

_He came for the treasure, _his other half told him. _You're only a burden to him. He knows that. _

_That isn't true! _

But he couldn't make himself believe it. The doubt that had been nagging at him for some time, eating away at his confidence, was winning. And when Ben stood as the quintet approached, Riley avoided his eyes.

"Ian," Ben said, acknowledging the blonde man's presence.

"Hello, Ben, Dr. Chase."

Abigail stood as well, though her attention was focused on someone else.

"Riley," she asked gently. "Are you okay?"

He looked up to meet her eyes. "I'm okay." He noticed the corner of something poking out of her bag and recognized it, with a jolt, as his book. Smiling slightly with sudden affection, he reassured her. "I'm fine."

"Riley," Ben said softly.

Riley ignored him, turning instead to Ian.

"Can we get this over with?"

Ian smirked. "You read my mind." He turned to Ben. "The chart?"

Ben pulled a sheet of paper from his backpack. "We didn't bring the Book," he said, passing the copied chart and poem to the Brit.

Ian perused the chart carefully for a moment. "What are these rectangles?" he asked, indicating one with a finger.

"As far as we can tell, they're buildings," Ben said. "But this map is incredibly old. We have no way of knowing what structures existed at the time it was done."

"And this is some kind of compass?" Ian tapped a symbol to the edge of the drawing.

Ben nodded.

Ian sighed. "Well, we do seem to be looking for a needle in a haystack, but we've done it before. I suggest we start by getting away from all these bloody tourists."

"Yeah, I doubt the treasure's going to be on a nice path with signs saying "Quivira – this way." Riley quipped weakly, hoping to get a smile from Abigail's concerned face. Her mouth twitched.

--

The group made their way to the edge of the parking lot and peered over a rail into the canyon.

"There," Ben pointed to a small trail dropping away below them. "It looks safe enough. The park rangers probably use it, it's been cleared of brush."

"How do we get down there?" Powell asked, running a hand through his hair.

It was Riley who answered.

"Over there," he pointed. "The path leads up to a gate where the parking lot ends, behind that bush."

It took under a minute for Shippen to pick the gate's lock, and soon the group was descending the trail, hugging the mountain to their left because they didn't trust the flimsy rail set up on the other side. Though the trail was clear, it was uneven, and Riley had a difficult time keeping his footing. Since he stubbornly refused to even look at Ben, it was Abigail who came to the rescue, taking the techie's hand and helping him in rough patches.

After twenty minutes of silent travel, the path widened into a small plateau, and they stopped to rest. Riley winced as both his head and leg throbbed at the same time, and for a moment the world spun.

"Riley?"

His eyes snapped open. Ben stood a few feet away, gazing at him uncertainly.

"Can we talk?"

"Don't tell me, let me guess." Riley's cold voice surprised even him, but the words just spilled out without invitation. "You're sorry."

Ben was taken aback. "Well, yes! All of this is my fault-"

"You're right, it is," Riley said sharply. Ben looked like he'd been slapped. He opened his mouth to respond, but Riley cut him off. "No, _you _listen to _me_ for once! I've followed you around on all these adventures. I've risked my neck multiple times, and I won't pretend I regret getting involved because I don't. I've had the time of my life. But I've nearly been shot, blown up, and drowned before, and now it comes to _this_. And I can't help thinking, Ben - what matters more? Me, or the treasure?" His voice heightened in volume. "I helped _your_ family find _their_ dream, I helped _you_ clear _your_ family name, and not once have I gotten any gratitude for it! Sure, maybe a few empty thank-you's along the way, but nothing else. I never asked questions, I just followed! Tell me something, if there was a Poole family treasure, would you be right there by my side, no questions asked, the way I've always been there for you? I wrote a book, and not only doesn't my best friend bother to read it, other people think I'm _you_, and apparently have never heard of _me_. Well, of course not! Who cares about the _sidekick? _You couldn't do this without me, Ben, and you know it. Is it too much to ask that you try to not ignore me? It's like, 'Oh, look, here's a new treasure, let's get Riley to hack into a few computers, turn off a few cameras, _risk his life_, and now that the hunt is over, we can go back to forgetting he exists.'" Riley's face was bright red, and his eyes were flashing anger. Abigail was standing a few feet away, her hand over her mouth. Ben was frozen. Even Ian and his men had turned, caught up in the drama. "I mean, _he _read my book!" Riley flung an arm in Ian's general direction. "But my so-called best friend didn't." His voice dropped down to normal. "You didn't read it, Ben. And you were never going to, were you? Because it wasn't about you. For once, _I_ did something good. And you can't handle that." His eyes filled with tears, and he turned away.

Abigail stepped up beside Ben, her eyes fixed on Riley, who was trembling.

"Is he going to be okay?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

"I don't know..." Ben muttered. He had never seen his usually cheerful friend like this before. Inside, he felt like he was falling. His insides had shriveled up and died with Riley's remarks. And it wasn't just because he had a feeling he'd just lost his best friend.

It was because he knew Riley was right.

* * *

A/N: Well...it was always coming. They needed it. And Ben deserved it.

Review?


	17. Unintentional Stalling

A/N: I don't really have a lot to say for this one...except that I really love torturing Riley...and thanks for all your awesome reviews!

* * *

**Unintentional Stalling**

"Well, are we ready to move on, then?" Ian asked after a moment. "We may have to stop for the night, but we might as well get a start."

Abigail whipped around and glared at the Brit, but couldn't seem to find the words she was searching for. Ian's eyebrows shot up and he smiled.

"Dr. Chase? Something you wanted to say?"

She shook her head in anger and turned on her heel to help Riley. He shook her off, taking two unsteady steps forward.

"Let's go," he said stiffly.

Ian led the way, tailed by Shippen and Powell. Riley came next, unaided and pale, but with a steady glare on his face. Abigail followed closely, ready to offer a hand. Ben and then Phil brought up the rear.

"Any idea what we're looking for?" Ian asked as they trudged along. He turned back to Ben, but Ben's head was bowed and he didn't appear to be paying attention. "Gates!"

"Leave him alone, Ian!" Abigail spat angrily. "Do you enjoy this? Can't you see you're making it worse?"

Ian smirked. "They don't need my help, I'm sure." He looked pointedly at Riley, whose eyes were filled with tears as he stared straight ahead. "Isn't that right, Riley?"

"Ian-" Abigail started, but Riley broke in.

"Shut up, Ian!"

"Why?" Ian taunted. "He used you, and you know it. He used you from the very beginning. And when he didn't need you – he discarded you."

"SHUT UP!" Riley flung himself at Ian, eyes blazing and running with tears, but Shippen and Powell reached him first, seizing his arms and holding him tightly despite his thrashing.

Ian stopped laughing. He surveyed Riley closely.

"A little too feisty, Mr. Poole. Maybe you should calm down, hm?"

Abigail stepped forward, terror in her eyes.

"Ian," she pleaded quietly. "Please. Stop this. If you want your treasure, you have to give us a chance to look for it. Please."

Ian nodded, and his men released Riley, who crumpled to the ground, shaking.

"Right then – Gates." He turned, but Ben wasn't in the group. "Ben?"

Abigail spun. "Ben!"

He was nowhere to be seen. Ian pulled out his gun and pointed it at Riley.

"What are you doing?" Abigail squeaked.

"Leverage," Ian muttered as Shippen grabbed Abigail from behind, a knife at her throat.

"Let them go, Ian!" Ben's voice suddenly rang through the air. He remained invisible, however, and with all the echoing rocks, it was impossible to tell where he was.

"Come out, Benjamin, and I will," Ian said firmly. When there was no reply, his lips drew back in a snarl. "We are not playing games, Gates!" He jabbed his gun into Riley's skull. "I'll do it, I swear."

There was a pause.

"I'm coming out," Ben said. "Don't hurt them." He stepped out from behind an outcropping a little ways uphill, descending slowly with his hands in the air. When he reached the group, Shippen released Abigail and she fell into Ben's arms. Riley cautiously stood on trembling legs.

"What were you doing, Ben?" Ian asked, his gun still out. "Trying to contact the police?"

"I was getting a better view. We know we're looking for some kind of graveyard. I thought from a higher position I might be able to see something."

Ian sneered dangerously. "Ben – you never could bluff. Give me your phone."

Slowly, Ben handed the Brit his Blackberry. Ian tossed it into the Canyon.

"Oops," he whispered. "Silly me." Then his arm swung up and he backhanded Riley across the face. The techie gasped and staggered.

"Riley!" Ben shouted, taking a step forward. Riley covered his face and looked away, so the treasure hunter turned to Ian instead. "What the hell was that for?"

"You lied to me. I told you he'd get hurt," the Brit stated calmly.

Ben stepped forward. "Ian, you-" He half-raised a fist.

"You _really _don't want to do that," Ian said calmly. Ben froze. He turned on his heel and stalked to the ledge, pointing.

"There's a graveyard over there. Take a look at the chart." He thrust the paper at Ian, who surveyed it carefully. "Might be our place."

Ian glanced out over the canyon. "If we're to assume this cemetery is the circle on the chart, than that would mean there should be buildings there, there…and there." He jabbed a finger in the air to prove his point.

"Ruins, by now," Ben pointed out.

Ian reached into his backpack and pulled out a pair of binoculars. He was silent for a moment as he scanned the area. Then he lowered the lenses.

"That isn't it. I don't see anything."

Ben sighed. "Okay. So we keep moving."

"We keep moving," Ian agreed.

When they moved on, Riley, whose face was red where Ian had hit him (on the opposite cheek from his other bruise), stayed far away from Ben. He seemed on the verge of breakdown. He was forced to accept Abigail's help as he stumbled constantly.

Ben watched his friend carefully, his heart breaking a little more each second. Usually when Riley was upset, he looked like a kicked puppy. But today, he looked…grown up. He wasn't whining, wasn't making any of his usual sarcastic comments. It scared the treasure hunter. He wanted his best friend back. But he knew it was his own fault. He'd tossed Riley aside – Ben had heard Ian's cutting comments, and he hated to admit that the Brit was right. He'd taken Riley's help, his friendship, for granted. And now the effects were hitting.

"Riley!"

Ben's head snapped up, his mouth dropping in horror. Riley had slipped on a loose stone and was teetering on the edge of the cliff.

He ran forward – he wasn't close enough, not nearly close enough – but Abigail reached out at the same time Phil did. They weren't in time.

With a small squeak, Riley disappeared from view over the ledge.

"RILEY!" Ben roared, charging forward. As one, everyone stepped to the edge and peered cautiously down.

"A-A little help?" Riley coughed from below. A small outcropping stuck out of the rock about fifteen feet down. Riley lay on it, his ankle twisted at an odd angle. He moved feebly, then his eyes closed and he lay still.

"We have to get down there!" Ben gasped.

Ian was already moving; he extracted a rope from his pack, tying it tightly around his waist.

"Let me go!" Ben insisted, grabbing the Brit's arm. Ian looked him straight in the eye.

"I'm stronger than you," he said firmly. "I can handle it." Ben held his gaze for a moment, then nodded and stepped away. Ian tied the other end of the rope to a secure rock at the top. "Lower me slowly," he instructed before backing to the edge.

Powell and Ben took control of the rope, slowly lowering Ian until he stood on the ledge where Riley lay, unmoving. The man carefully lifted Riley from the rock and slung him over his back, giving the thumbs-up. They began pulling him up, requiring the assistance of Shippen and Phil as well with the added weight. Ben tried to ignore the blood slowly dripping from his friend.

After some sweaty heaving, they were able to pull Riley off Ian onto the ground and Ian climbed onto level ground himself. Phil pushed his way to the front of the group.

"Let me take a look," he said.

He checked Riley's vitals.

"Is he breathing?" Abigail whispered, holding her own breath.

"Yes."

"But…?" Ben asked in trepidation, sensing there was more.

Phil pointed to the injured ankle – the same one that had the gunshot wound. "Well, first there's the broken ankle. Then," he turned the techie over. A gash on his forehead dripped blood. Abigail drew in a choked breath and squeezed Ben's arm.

"What can we do?" Powell asked, scratching his head.

"Do? We have to get him to a hospital!" Ben yelled. Abigail nodded furiously. "It's going to get dark soon, and when it gets dark, it gets cold."

"We can't." Ian said quietly from the back. Everyone turned.

"What?" Ben said angrily. "Ian, he may die!"

"He won't." Ian said with certainty.

Ben's eyes flashed. "Ian, just because you hate him doesn't mean-"

"We stay!" Ian insisted, his teeth clenching. He whirled on Phil. "What supplies do we have?"

Phil looked uncertain. "We have two tents…some food, flashlights, rope…and a First Aid kit. I could put some gauze on his head…and try to splint his ankle."

"Do it." Ian said shortly.

Phil hesitated. "Maybe we should-"

"Do it!" Ian yelled. He turned back to Ben. "I suggest we start looking for that cemetery."

* * *

A/N: I hope this chapter made sense. I was a little unsure about Ian in it. He's really mad, and just a little evil. :D But I totally could see Sean Bean saying the last line. And as for Phil...well, he's not a murderer. Hey, maybe vomit bonds two men together! Or...not. Review?


	18. Revelations

A/N: Sorry for the wait! I've had this chapter written for a few days, but my internet has been really weird...anyhoo, this is a pretty short chapter (sorry!), and there is virtually no plot progression, but we get to see an unusual softer side of Phil!

* * *

**Revelations**

_Riley was dreaming._

_In his dream, they were back under Trinity Church – Ben, Abigail, Patrick, Ian, Powell, Shaw, and himself. They moved slowly along the wooden system of stairs and rotting boards. There was no sound, yet Riley knew something was about to happen. As he watched, the group paused, and it was like a blast from the past – he knew Shaw was about to fall through, as he had before. And the man did fall, and the sound suddenly blew full force through his eardrums. Shaw screamed, everyone else yelled and leapt back. And with a crack, the wood splintered and began to break apart. Riley tried to jump as he had before – but his legs were glued in place. He couldn't move. Instead, he watched Ben shove Abigail to safety before the treasure hunter spun to Riley. The techie felt his legs slipping beneath him; he grasped desperately to the rotting boards. The Declaration rolled out of Ben's reach even as he clutched to Riley's arm. The grip felt real. Riley's eyes flew to the document. Déjà vu – only this time he was Abigail._

"_Ben-!" he panted._

_Ben glanced to the container, then back to Riley. "Do you trust me?" he asked._

_Riley felt everything rush through him at once. His eyes met Ben's, and he heard himself say, with absolute certainty. "Yes."_

_Ben let go._

_And Riley felt himself falling, falling…_

"Auugh!" Riley screamed and woke suddenly, snapping up to a sitting position and screaming again as sharp pain shot through him. "OUCH!"

"Riley, shh, it's okay!" Abigail appeared before him, her hands tight on his shoulders. "Relax! It's all right!"

Riley panted and tried to gain control of himself. Sharp pain was coursing through him in waves. "Abi, it _hurts_!" He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, fists gripping her jacket tightly.

"I know, I know…" she said soothingly, voice breaking.

He noticed there were unshed tears in her eyes and loosed his hold.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"_Me_?" she asked incredulously. "What about _you_?"

"What happened to me?" he asked, his memories muddled.

"You fell off a cliff," Abigail told him, concern filling her voice.

"Oh, yeah, that's right…" he said as the recognition washed over him. "Oops."

"You're awake!" A new voice entered the conversation. Riley looked up and saw with distaste, Phil standing over Abigail. For the first time he also noticed they were in some sort of tent and he was lying on a blanket on the bare ground.

"Phil tried to patch you up a little," Abigail explained.

"Did he?" Riley said coolly, glancing up with interest despite himself. Phil's expression wasn't as hostile as Riley remembered it to be. He even looked worried. "Well, doc, what's the prognosis?"

"Unfortunately, you've managed to injure yourself in the exact same places as before." Phil explained, leaning over and extracting a water bottle from a pack. "Here. You're probably dehydrated."

Riley struggled with the cap for a moment before Abigail calmly took the bottle and opened it for him. Riley took a long draught.

"What does that mean?" he asked finally, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"You broke your ankle, for starters," Phil said. Riley glanced at his ankle. It was swollen to twice its usual size and padded with several layers of bandages. There was also some sort of stick poking out like a flag on the inside of the ankle, opposite from the gunshot wound. A lot of pain was coming from that ankle.

"Oh. You…splinted it?"

"I tried. It was hard, because I didn't want to hurt the other wound. But…yeah. And then you hit your head pretty hard." Riley gingerly put his hand to his forehead and felt a gauze padding. His head spun and ached. "And you may have already had a concussion, but now you definitely do."

"Perfect."

"And…well, cuts and bruises, mostly. And one of your ribs may be broken, but I can't really do anything about that."

Riley shut his eyes and tried to ignore the pain and sickness rising inside him.

"And Ian expects me to go on like this?"

Abigail sighed. "Ian and Ben left a while ago, Riley. They were supposed to come back, but they haven't yet. It's almost dark outside."

Riley nodded and realized it was a mistake. His stomach churned and he tried to warn the other two to back up. But as soon as he opened his mouth, vomit spilled out. He squinted and noticed he'd missed Abigail by inches…but Phil's shoes were coated in crap.

"Ooh…sorr-" He threw up again, this time missing Phil completely. He felt lightheaded and the world spun. "Abi…" he murmured before he fell backwards into blissful sleep.

--

"Riley? Riley?" Abigail exclaimed, leaning over her friend. She sat back on her heels. "He's fainted." She wrinkled her nose at the smell wafting through the tent.

Phil sighed and looked down at his tennis shoes, gingerly stepping out of them. "I'll…get something to clean up."

Abigail followed him out of the tent. Powell and Shippen stood guard on either side of their little camp. They were eating protein bars. Each had a lantern that lit a small circle of light in a two-foot perimeter around its owner.

"He woke up," Phil explained at their questioning looks. "Threw up, and fainted." They wrinkled their noses.

"Here," Phil handed Abigail a snack bar. "You'll need this." He rummaged through another bag and extracted a rolled up tarp. "This will have to do as clean-up gear."

As he moved to return to the tent, Abigail touched him lightly on the shoulder. He turned, surprised.

"Thank you for doing this. But why are you?" she asked curiously.

Phil struggled internally for a moment. "I never signed up to kill anyone. Just to get some extra money to take care of my family." He appeared surprised that he'd told her so much.

Abigail glanced at Powell and Shippen. "And them?"

"Them, too," Phil said quietly. "You know, at first we were just working with Gates to find that Templar treasure. No breaking laws. Then when it came to illegality…I told myself I needed the money. And jail has a way of hardening people. I thought I wouldn't have a problem hurting people…but everyone has a family, right? And your little friend reminds me of my younger brother." He paused. "Ian used to remember boundaries…but something's happened. He's crossed the line."

"Then why don't you stop him? You three outnumber him!" Abigail pleaded with him.

Phil shook his head. "I can't. I'm sorry." He disappeared into the tent.

Abigail sank onto a rock. This new revelation about Ian's henchmen gave her ideas. If only she could convince them to work with her. They could stop Ian, and get Riley to a hospital. Because if he didn't get medical treatment fast...well, they'd get there in time. They had to.

* * *

A/N: Hm. Well, I hope you understand the dream. It was like a bad flashback, where Riley is in Abigail's place and has to confront whether he trusts Ben or not. And when he says yes, he falls. And I really love having Abigail all protective of Riley. I think there's definitely some strong brother-sisterly fluff there. And I totally just realized how cliche it is to make the bad guys have a weakness. Sigh. To comfort or condemn me, review anyways?


	19. Drama and Discovery

A/N: Hey everyone! I really am sorry for the wait, but the day after I last updated, we put my dog of eleven years to sleep (she was fifteen). As you can imagine, I was heartbroken for a few days and unable to even think of updating. And now school starts in less than two weeks and I've still got a lot of summer work to do. So there will be more delays for a while, until the routine settles. There shouldn't be too much left here, anyway...I expect about 25 chapters, when all is said and done.

* * *

**Drama and Disovery**

"Ian, we have to go back," Ben panted, scrambling atop a large rock to keep up with the British man. "It's dark, and cold, and we said we'd be back hours ago."

Ian turned, the beam of his flashlight dancing across Ben's face. His face was emotionless. "No."

Ben sighed in exasperation. "Okay, Ian, you win. You want this treasure, and fine, I understand. And you can have it. All of it. But we need to search in the morning, when we can see something and think clearly. You may have slept in the past few days, but I haven't. The treasure can wait one more day."

Ian's mouth twisted into a sneer. "But can Riley?" he murmured. "Can _Riley _wait one more day, Ben?" Ben's mouth gaped as he searched for a reply. Ian's eyebrow arched. "Selfish Benjamin. Always thinking about himself." His voice took on a mocking tone. "I'm _tired_, I can't _see_! How do you think Riley feels, Ben? Think he's slept recently?"

Ben's face darkened. He stepped forward. "You son of a-"

Ian didn't back down. "Don't. _Don't_ test me, Ben. We're going to keep looking, because I don't give a damn about your comfort, or his." He turned on his heel and stalked away.

Ben had no choice but to follow.

--

"Where _are _they?" Abigail moaned, wringing her hands. "They were supposed to be back _hours _ago! What if they got lost?"

"I'm sure they're fine," Phil muttered, but he didn't look convinced.

"And it's _freezing_, even in the tent!" Abigail hugged her jacket closer to her body.

It was the coldest any of their group had ever been. The Arctic had nothing on the Grand Canyon at night. Powell and Shippen had abandoned their posts as soon as the sun set, and everyone huddled together in the flimsy canvas shelter. The three blankets (which were far too thin for the temperature) were wrapped around Riley, who had not regained consciousness but shivered violently in his sleep. His cheeks and forehead were burning up.

Phil edged a little closer. Abigail sighed and buried her head between her knees, but didn't move away. The close proximity was necessary – body heat was all they had.

"I'm sorry."

Abigail opened her eyes and sat up, shooting the man a grateful look. Then her eyes found Riley.

"He needs to go to a hospital…" she murmured, reaching a hand to her friend's cheek.

Phil bit his lip and nodded. "I know. If I-"

He was interrupted by a sudden choking and rustling. Four pairs of eyes shot to the cocoon that was Riley. The techie was sitting up feebly, pushing the covers away. His eyes were slightly glazed.

Abigail leaned over him immediately. "Riley, you need to keep the blankets on. It's freezing; you're going to catch pneumonia."

"I-I'm not c-c-cold…" he mumbled, shivering and squeezing his eyes shut. "Ow…"

"Riley? What's wrong?" Abigail asked, her voice lifting an octave.

"N-n-n-nothing…I'm f-f-fine…" He pulled the blankets back onto himself. His face was paper white.

"Riley?" Abigail asked, alarmed.

"Where's B-B-Ben?"

"He's not back yet," Phil answered gently.

"Aw, m-m-man…" He gasped suddenly and doubled over.

Abigail squeezed his hand tightly. "What is it?"

He shook his head tersely, then gurgled and something red spilled out of his mouth.

Blood.

"RILEY!" Abigail wrapped her arms around her friend, ignoring the red getting all over her hands and clothes.

"A-Abigail…" Riley moaned, falling limp against the blonde.

The other three had leapt to their feet as well. Phil ripped the blankets off. Riley's ankle was swollen to at least three times its normal size. It had turned purple-ish black, and blood seeped from beneath the wrapping.

"Come on," he told Abigail quietly, bending over and lifting the young man into his arms. "We're getting out of here."

Abigail's eyes leaked in relief as she climbed hurriedly to her feet. "Ben?"

Powell spoke up, his heavy accent cutting into the air.

"Shippen and I will wait here for them."

"Won't Ian be angry?" Abigail whispered.

Phil nodded. "But we don't have a choice. Like I said, he's gone over the line. Ben can take care of himself. Riley can't."

Abigail knew she had no other choice, so she nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat and trying to avoid thoughts of the danger they were all in. She accepted the flashlight Shippen handed her and returned his encouraging smile shakily. Then she shouldered her backpack, which contained a few snack bars and water bottles, and followed Phil out of the tent, leaving the makeshift camp behind.

"Is he heavy?" she asked after a few minutes of silent trudging. Phil was taller than Riley, but just as thin and not much older.

"I work out," Phil said simply.

"You just broke out of jail," Abigail pointed out.

Phil gave her an amused look. "You think they don't have gyms in prison?"

"Um…I think I'll pass on this one."

"They do."

"Oh."

After a few more long minutes, Abigail sighed heavily. "I hope we're going the right way. It'd be so easy to get lost here."

Phil didn't reply for a moment. "I'm sorry about Ben."

Abigail blinked back tears, her stomach forming knots. "He-he'll be okay. He always gets out of these kinds of things."

"Yeah."

"Sorry about…Ian. Guess you guys used to be close?"

"Shaw was his best friend…but we all worked together. Kind of like the three of you. Until he got a little treasure-crazy…"

"Abigail…"

The other two froze in their tracks as Riley stirred weakly in Phil's arms. Abigail shone the flashlight beam indirectly at Riley's face so they could see his condition. His skin was still pale and clammy.

"Hey, Riley," Abigail said, trying to force a smile onto her face as they began walking again. She kept her eyes locked with his.

"Where're we going?"

"We're taking you to a hospital, okay? Just hold on. It's going to be all right."

"What…about…the others?" His voice came in gasps.

"Powell and Shippen are going to wait for Ian and Ben to get back. It's okay. Don't worry about that. Concentrate on yourself."

"Abigail." Riley managed to sound vaguely reproachful. "That's selfish."

Abigail let out a choked laugh, amazed Riley could do that to her in even the worse situations. "Right."

Phil spoke up suddenly, his voice thick and anxious. "Uh…we have a problem…."

"What?" Abigail asked as panic struck through her.

Phil nodded ahead and Abigail's heart sank. A solid rock wall blocked their path.

"I…think we're lost."

--

Ben stumbled along behind Ian, barely awake now. According to his watch, it was past two in the morning. He didn't know how long they had been on the move, but he guessed it was a _very _long time.

"Ian…" he began wearily.

"Look," Ian interrupted, stopping short.

Ben looked.

The thin beam of light swept over crumbling stone. At first glance, nothing stuck out of the mess, but then Ben saw what looked like a skull wedged between two rocks.

"It's a graveyard," he breathed.

"Yes…" Ian moved forward.

"Ian, this may not even be the right one…" Ben warned.

"There's only one way to find out."

Ian moved between the stones, examining each one carefully and stepping over the bones half-buried in the dirt. It was obvious the natives' methods of burial were crude. The stones were packed tightly together and did not appear to signify one person each as much as they marked the whole area. Whether there had ever been any sort of traditional mound on the spot was impossible to tell; the ground had worn away, leaving only this messy cemetery.

Ben stood still, taking in the sight, while Ian flitted like a shadow. The treasure hunter's hopes weren't high for finding anything. One graveyard out of many didn't have high odds of being the right one. The only reason he hoped luck was on their side was so that he could get back to the campsite, and Abigail and Riley. His heart was with them, not here. Not with the treasure.

He knew what was most important to him now.

"Ben!" Ian called. "I found something!"

Ben wound his way to his former associate and bent over, eyes widening. Carved into the stone was the symbol – the compass – from the map.

* * *

A/N: Well, finally, a chapter that gets us somewhere. :D I want to know what you think! Review?


	20. Big Trouble

A/N: Wow. I got so many immediate responses to my Author's Note that I got right down to work. Only about one person wanted anything other than Ben/Abigail. I had pretty much already decided to keep it Ben/Abigail, but your responses sure convinced me I made the right choice!

And...well, amazingly, this is the climax! Yeah, it crept up really suddenly on me, too! Sometimes the chapter writes itself. This one did.

Warning: Character death.

* * *

**Big Trouble**

"Would you look at that…" Ben murmured, running his fingers lightly over the symbol. "Guess it wasn't just a compass after all…"

Ian grunted absentmindedly, his eyes fixated on the stone. He put the flashlight on the ground and pushed against the boulder. It didn't budge.

"It's heavy," he remarked. "But it has to move somehow."

Despite himself, Ben was interested. He leaned down and joined Ian's efforts. The stone moved about 1/100 of an inch under their strain.

Ben took a breath, crouching. "We need more manpower."

Ian nodded reluctantly. He rolled his eyes. "I suppose we'll have to go back to the camp."

"No guarantee we'll be able to find our way back here," Ben sighed.

Ian studied his face for a moment. Unexpectedly, he grinned. "In the morning, we'll be able to see the landmarks. Shouldn't be a problem."

Ben's felt his stomach drop. "But Riley…" he murmured.

Ian's smile was sickening. "Oh, I'm sure Riley will be able to survive another day, right? You said so yourself." He turned abruptly and began to stride away, taking the light with him.

Ben lurched to his feet, clenching his fists. He took several deep breaths to calm down and hurried after the other man.

Returning to the camp took much less time than leaving it. Before long, the glowing tent came into view, and they quickened their pace, eager to get inside where it might be warmer and eat something.

Ben ducked through the tent flap after Ian and was surprised by what he saw. Phil, Riley, and Abigail were not there; only Shippen and Powell huddled together for warmth.

Ian seemed just as taken aback; then his eyes began to smolder.

"Where are they?" he growled.

They exchanged glances. Powell held up a blanket, blue stained with red. Ben's stomach lurched.

"What…?"

"He started coughing up blood," Shippen explained haltingly. "They left to take him to a hospital."

Ian bared his teeth. "You didn't stop them?" he demanded. He understood their silence. "Going soft, are we?" His quiet furor was the most terrifying of all. He drew his gun and everyone flinched. "Fine. I'll take care of this myself." And he charged out of the tent.

Wide-eyed, Ben turned his gaze to the henchmen. They, too, seemed jolted.

"What's he doing?" he whispered.

Powell found his voice. "He was only like that once before." He breathed. "He destroyed everything in sight. If he catches up to the others…" He shook his head wordlessly, and Ben plunged out into the darkness.

--

"What do we do?" Abigail whispered.

"We go back a ways and take a different route," Phil replied quietly.

"Great," Riley rasped. Abigail cast him a terrified glance before nodding.

They turned around and worked their way back through the darkness.

"I hate to do this…but can we take a short break?" Phil huffed.

"Sorry," Riley said meekly.

"Sure." Abigail gestured to a couple large, relatively flat rocks. Phil gently laid Riley down on one of them. He immediately sat up, swaying slightly, and Abigail sat next to him so he could lean against her.

"Thanks…" he murmured, breathing heavily.

Abigail watched him, concerned. "Don't worry, Riley. We'll find our way out of here and get you to a hospital."

"I'm more worried about the hospital," Riley admitted, grinning. "I hate those places."

Abigail laughed – and again wondered how she could be laughing at a time like this.

_Darn you, Riley…_

But even laughter couldn't completely stifle the fear in her gut. Fear for Riley, who was like her younger brother and needed medical attention ASAP. Fear for Ben, who was stuck with Ian. Fear for her own well-being. Even fear for Phil, who had inexplicably become her most helpful ally.

As if on cue, Phil suddenly stiffened. "Someone's coming."

Abigail instinctively stood up. "Hello?" she called.

Silence.

"I don't like this," Abigail murmured to Phil, shining the flashlight around

He nodded tersely, drawing his gun and moving forward. "Hello?"

The beam of light caught movement – Abigail focused it. And Ian stepped into view, his gun cocked.

"Ian!" Phil greeted the older man with transparent bravado.

"What. Do. You. Think. You're. _Doing_." The Brit spat.

Phil looked pained. "Ian…he's in a lot of pain. He might die."

"_Shut up!_" Ian snarled. He waved the gun. "Now, get out of the way."

Phil shook his head. "No."

"Fine."

There was a gunshot. Abigail screamed, and Phil fell to the ground. Riley struggled upward, wincing as his left leg tapped the ground. He stood defiantly in front of Abigail, his face ashen.

"Ian...don't…don't do this…"

"Don't speak again," Ian told him, cocking the gun. Riley blanched.

Ben suddenly leapt out of the darkness behind Ian, tackling him to the ground. The gun went off, but the shot strayed wide.

"Ben!" Abigail shrieked as the two men engaged in a fistfight, rolling around on the ground. Riley kept a restraining hand on her arm.

Ben pinned Ian to the ground by the throat. The Brit's hand searched desperately for something to use against his opponent; he grabbed a thick stick.

"Ben, look out!" Abigail called in warning. But it was too late.

Ian swung the stick and hit Ben on the side of the head, knocking the other man out.

"Crap!" Riley fell to his knees beside Phil. "Phil, wake up! Wake up, man!"

"That won't do any good, you know," Ian said harshly, stepping closer with a menacing grin on his face, his gun once more at the ready. "He's dead."

Abigail pulled at Riley's arm, trying to get him behind her. The techie seemed about out of strength; he swayed dangerously and almost collapsed. His eyes were sliding in and out of focus.

Ian waved the gun. "Step aside, Dr. Chase. It's against my morals to hurt a lady."

Abigail shook her head, too terrified to respond.

Ian laughed. "Look at him. He doesn't have much time left, anyway. I'm doing you all a favor."

"Abi…_move_," Riley hissed.

"No."

"_Yes!_" And with one great shove that took every last bit of strength he had left, he pushed her out of the way. Then he faced Ian again. "What do you want from me?" he whispered. "_What do you want from me?_"

"Just THIS!"

"Riley!" Abigail shouted.

Ian strode forward purposefully. He drew his fist back and with a horrific lunge, smashed Riley's nose. Abigail shrieked from several feet away, unsure of what to do. Riley cried out in agony before falling to the ground, his eyes fluttering closed.

"Oh, no you don't," Ian growled. "I want you conscious when I kill you." He pulled the techie up by the hair and slammed him against a rock.

"Stop it!" Abigail screamed. "Stop!"

A trickle of blood rolled from Riley's scalp down his face, mixing with his messy nose, but miraculously he glared up at Ian, his blue eyes blazing.

"Go to Hell."

Ian gritted his teeth and kicked Riley in the stomach. Riley grunted and squeezed his eyes shut, several tears escaping.

Abigail sprinted to Ben's side and shook him furiously, noticing blood crusting on his forehead. "Ben! Please wake up! Wake up!"

Ben moaned and his eyes opened slowly. "Huh?"

"Ben!" she screeched in his ear, pulling him upright. "Help!"

Ben looked around fuzzily, taking in the action happening just a few feet away. He leapt to his feet, wincing and putting a hand to his head.

"We have to do something!" Abigail urged. "He's beating Riley to a pulp!"

Before either of them could make a move, Ian suddenly put his gun to Riley's head.

"Say goodbye, Riley."

There was a gunshot, and the world stood still. But it wasn't Riley who fell to the ground.

It was Ian.

Riley stared blearily down at the gun in his own hand. "Goodbye, Riley," he murmured, and keeled over.

* * *

A/N: Hehe...ha? Oh. Not a funny chapter. Don't hate me! You may be surprised by what ends up happening! Maybe. Review?


	21. Hospitals

A/N: I really didn't expect to update so quickly, but my guess is that everyone is glad I did! After the last chapter...my most intense, I believe. There have been several theories as to who died, and this update will put those to rest. So enjoy!

* * *

**Hospitals**

A split-second later, the air exploded. Rapid footsteps and shouting momentarily distracted Ben and Abigail from the shock of what had just transpired as swarms of police rushed into the area, guns at the ready and radios crackling furiously. As soon as they realized there was no immediate danger, they reassessed the situation and called for paramedics.

Ben dropped onto the ground beside Riley's still form, only vaguely processing what was going on around him. His ears were buzzing, and all he could see was Riley crumpling to the ground, over and over. He was too frightened even to check his friend's pulse. He barely noticed Abigail leaving his side when new police appeared with Shippen and Powell in custody. He felt strangely dead himself as a tarp was laid over Phil's body. He only had eyes for his friend, bruised and battered nearly beyond recognition. He didn't even care how the police had found them; only that they _hurried up _and got some help.

Footsteps approached, halting just before him and forcing him out of his daze.

"Hello, Ben." A very familiar voice said grimly.

"Sadusky," Ben replied, his voice cracking. He didn't stand up, and was surprised when Sadusky sat down beside him instead.

"You're hurt, Ben," the FBI agent stated as easily as if he had been talking about the weather.

Ben touched his head gingerly and winced. Ian was strong. "Not as much as Riley."

Sadusky nodded in acceptance and added under his breath, "Not _nearly _as much as Riley."

"The paramedics..."

"…are on their way. You have to excuse them, Ben. Scaling a canyon with a stretcher is no easy task."

"How did you find us?" Ben asked.

"Your parents called. They were worried when you didn't contact them, and told us where to find you. It took awhile; we've been searching for several hours. We heard the gunshots…"

Ben cringed. His tired eyes roved the scene before him. Abigail seemed to be in a heated argument with some of the agents responsible for the arrest of Shippen and Powell. Ian's former henchmen stood, handcuffed, nearby. They wore amused smirks, but Ben could also see pain there. Phil had been their friend, after all.

The sun came up over the canyon, shedding everything in a pale light. The sky was a rainbow of colors, but Ben couldn't appreciate anything at the moment.

He perked up when the paramedics hurried into sight, bearing two stretchers. _Two._ Of course. Ian still lay on the ground, motionless, several feet away. Obviously, he wasn't dead. However much Ben hated the Brit at the moment, he felt relief seep through him that Riley hadn't become a killer. He didn't think the techie could handle that particular label.

The paramedics wasted no time lifting Riley and Ian onto the stretchers and strapping them down. After checking the pulses of their patients, they equipped them with IVs and began to move back up the narrow path. Ben glanced helplessly at Sadusky, standing beside him. The agent nodded.

"Go with them. He needs you more than we do at the moment."

Ben hurried after them, trying to keep pace alongside Riley's stretcher. Abigail peeled herself away from the argument and joined the group. A short time later, they reached the top of the incline, and, to both Ben and Abigail's surprise, found themselves on the opposite side of the parking lot from the day before. Both Ben and Ian's cars were still parked in the lot, along with two ambulances and six or seven cop cars with lights flashing.

Ben and Abigail followed Riley to one of the ambulances and watched anxiously as he was loaded into the back. A young nurse turned to Ben, noticing his injury for the first time.

"Oh, sir! I'm sorry, we should have arranged a stretcher for you-"

"I'm fine," Ben growled, waving her off. "Just get my friend to the hospital."

"You could have a concussion-"

"_I don't care_," Ben said emphatically, climbing into the emergency vehicle without being invited. Abigail squeezed in behind him.

The nurse looked annoyed, but closed the doors on them and climbed into the cab. Two paramedics were also in the back with the stretcher, keeping tabs on Riley's condition.

Less than five minutes into the drive, one of them suddenly sprang into action.

"Heart rate is dropping!" he shouted, startling the others.

Ben glanced with alarm at the monitor. It was true.

"Do something!" he yelled, taking Riley's limp hand in his own. _Please, please, please…_

The doctors pulled Riley's shirt up and attached electrodes to his skin (Ben winced at the bruises covering his friend's abdomen). Then they brought out the defibrillator paddles.

Abigail let out a muffled gulp and hid her face in Ben's jacket. Ben forced himself to watch as they put the paddles to Riley's chest. A buzz and shock followed, and Riley jerked, his back arching slightly off the stretcher before landing with a thump.

"Recharge."

Buzz…shock…thump.

"Recharge."

Buzz…shock…thump…beep.

Everyone in the ambulance, excepting Riley, sighed in relief. The heart rate was normal again.

_Thank God..._

The rest of the ride seemed agonizingly long, though in reality it wasn't a long drive and they were going extremely fast. When the ambulance screeched to a stop, the doors flew open almost instantly and the stretcher was lifted out. Ben leapt down behind it, following as Riley was hurried through the halls of the hospital. He heard Abigail on his heels.

But when the techie was whisked through a set of double swinging doors, Ben was forced to stop. That was the operating room, and Ben knew it was one place he couldn't follow. He turned to Abigail, and they shared a helpless look before glancing around for somewhere to sit.

Seconds later, the nurse from before marched up to Ben.

"Sir, I insist we get you some medical treatment."

"I'm not leaving this spot," Ben insisted.

The nurse smirked. "I had a feeling you were going to say that." She held up a tub containing alcohol, cotton swabs, and gauze. "So I'll just do it here."

Ben reluctantly allowed the nurse to dab at the cut on his head, which was swelling and felt extremely tender. She taped a cotton ball under the gauze and examined her handiwork critically.

"That should do for now. Though as soon as you can spare us a moment, we really should perform a formal examination to check on that concussion."

"It can wait, can't it?" Abigail asked desperately, her eyes shining with tears, still locked on the operating room doors.

The nurse's eyes softened. "Of course. Whenever you know…" She trailed off and left.

"Thanks," Ben murmured dully.

Abigail put a hand on his knee. "I'm just as scared as you are, Ben."

They sat in silence for an endless stretch of time. Abigail left at one point and came back with two Styrofoam cups of coffee. Ben found he could hardly swallow his, whereas Abigail immediately drained her cup and kept going back for more. It was a mark of the gravity of the situation (this phrase accompanied by a sharp stab of pain at the memory of Trinity Church, and Riley...) – Abigail had never been a big coffee drinker before.

Scenes kept playing before Ben's eyes. All he could think about was the fact that he and Riley had not exactly parted on good terms.

"_I can't help thinking, Ben – what matters more? Me, or the treasure?"_

Ben's eyes screwed up as he fought back the burning tears. He wished he'd never heard of page forty-seven. Riley's safety was so much more important. And now his young friend's life was in danger, and there was nothing – absolutely nothing – that he could do. For once, Benjamin Gates was totally helpless. And he hated it.

Dizzying images filled his tired brain, shorting out every thought that didn't have to do with Riley. He couldn't be furious with Ian, or sorry about Phil, or worried about what his parents thought. There was no room.

Hours passed, or maybe it was days, before Ben woke out of his daze. Abigail was leaning against him slightly, yet another cup of coffee in her hands. Her blue eyes were glazed over, and Ben guessed she was lost in her own thoughts.

He stiffened as the swinging doors opened and a doctor emerged.

"Abigail…"

She looked up and noticed the man, too. Her lips set in a firm line as he located them and approached slowly.

"Hello," he said hesitantly, pulling a chair around to face them. "I'm Dr. William Parson. I'm Riley Poole's doctor. They told me you were his friends. Know if he has any family?"

Abigail shook her head mutely while Ben sat still.

"We're the closest he's got."

The doctor nodded. "All right. Well, I'll tell you what we found." He consulted a clipboard, pursing his lips. "Mr. Poole obtained multiple injuries to the head, appearing to have been caused by a blunt object. There are several gashes on his scalp and one on his forehead. These resulted in a severe concussion. His nose was damaged badly, nearly crushed, and he possesses more than one large bruise on his face as well. Mr. Poole has several broken ribs and several more are cracked. He has also sustained bruises in the abdomen area. It appears," the doctor winced, "that he was kicked repeatedly. The worst injury, indeed what is causing the most problems, is his left ankle. Besides the fact that it is shattered _and _it appears he attempted to stand afterwards from the bone placement, he has a gunshot wound in the ankle that was not treated correctly and has become infected. Doctors have taken the bullet out, but…"

"But what?" Ben asked tersely.

Dr. Parson sighed. "There is the possibility that we may be forced to amputate Mr. Poole's foot."

Abigail gasped in horror.

"Isn't there…anything you can do?" she whispered.

"We're doing everything we can," Dr. Parson said gently. "But to be frank, Mr. Poole's foot problem is the least of our worries at the present time."

"What do you mean?" Ben asked, fearing the worst.

The doctor bowed his head. "The patient has slipped into a coma. I give him a...fifty percent chance of surviving."

Abigail and Ben's choked cries of horror came in unison.

"Can we see him?" Ben pleaded, swallowing, his mind buzzing in denial.

"Of course." The doctor led them down a hallway to Room 312. Ben dully noted that the ward was the Intensive Care Unit.

"This is it?" Abigail asked hoarsely.

The doctor nodded, remorse etched onto his face. "I'm sorry. Talk to him – maybe he'll be able to hear you." He opened the door and stepped aside.

Feeling like he was embarking on his own death walk, Ben stepped inside the room. Abigail shadowed his footsteps, and the door shut quietly behind them.

Slowly, Ben forced his eyes to the bed.

Riley looked like a corpse. His skin was pale as a ghost's, and he was hooked up to a number of tubes and needles, an oxygen mask covering his face. Ben was comforted slightly by the steady beeping of the monitor beside the bed, but only slightly.

This pale figure didn't look like the Riley Poole Ben knew. His face was almost fully black and blue. His nose was still a mess. His leg was heavily bandaged from the foot to the knee, and propped up by a sling. Ben knew if he could see beneath the covers and hospital gown, he'd see bandages, and beneath those, more bruises.

He felt the hatred toward Ian welling up inside him again, a dull fire growing hotter the longer he looked at his friend. What right did Ian have to hurt something so small and innocent? His condition wasn't even life-threatening – Ben had discovered Riley's bullet caught Ian in the shoulder, and the Brit would be fine. Ben hated him. Hated him, hated him, _hated him_-

He was suddenly aware someone nearby was sniffling. He looked around wildly and saw Abigail huddling by the wall, tears flowing down her cheeks.

"Abi…" He moved to her side and held her close in his arms, stroking her hair. "Shh, it's…it's okay…" Of course it wasn't.

"I'm sorry," she sniffed, looking up with red eyes. "The last time I was in a hospital was when my father died, and I – I don't want to lose someone else!" She buried her face in Ben's chest. "He's so young…and small…and f-f-fragile!"

Ben held her until the tears slowed and came to a stop, whereupon they pulled chairs to the side of the bed and sat quietly, willing their techie friend to wake up.

_If you wake up, Riley, I promise never to be selfish again,_ Ben thought mournfully. _I promise I'll trust your judgment and appreciate you…I'm so sorry…_

The only reply was the beeping that meant Riley's heart was still beating. That meant he was still alive. For now.

* * *

A/N: This has been the longest chapter in this story I think...I actually wrote it in about two hours, straight through. I couldn't stop.

Okay, since I'm sure I'm going to get some comments about the deaths, let me explain:

I was originally going to kill off Ian and keep Phil alive. Then I sat back and thought. First off, Phil's death would add classic tragedy to the story - the enemy turned hero nearly always dies. Secondly, I didn't want Riley to kill Ian because I don't see Riley as a killer, even an accidental one. And also, gotta keep Ben mad at Ian! I hope you can forgive me for killing off a good guy and keeping the bad...please?

Review?


	22. Comatose

A/N: I'm just having so much fun writing these chapters that I decided to update yet again! We're really close to the end now...three more chapters after this one, I've already got it planned out.

This chapter starts out all angsty, then goes funny to lighten the mood.

* * *

**Comatose**

Ben didn't remember falling asleep. But when he next opened his eyes he found his head and arms resting on Riley's sheets, and the clock directly across his line of vision read 7:27 pm. He lifted his head slightly, feeling far more alert now that he a few hours of sleep in him. He half-expected Abigail to be asleep on the opposite chair, but it was vacant. The room was empty except for Ben and Riley himself, still sleeping, monitor still matching the rhythmic beat. Ben sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands over his face to get rid of the remnants of sleep.

The door opened, and Abigail slid inside, a tall plastic cup from the hospital cafeteria in her hands. She looked cleaner than before, and it took Ben a moment to realize she'd washed the dirt smudges off her face. He hadn't even noticed they were there until they were gone, so engrossed was he in Riley's well-being.

She smiled at him and crossed the room, squeezing his shoulder.

"Glad to see you're awake."

"I didn't realize it'd gotten so late," he croaked, voice still a little groggy. "Did you get any sleep?"

She shrugged. "A few hours. I think I drank too much coffee earlier." She motioned to her drink. "I went to the cafeteria and got something to eat. This tea isn't half bad for a hospital." When Ben didn't reply, his eyes already locked back on Riley's face, she bent over to kiss him on the cheek. "You should get something, too, Ben."

"No."

She sighed. "Ben, you've hardly eaten anything since the night Riley was…Look, I'll stay with him. Your parents called, and they're going to be here tomorrow, so-"

"My parents are coming?" he asked incredulously.

Abigail nodded gently. "The first flight they could get was tomorrow morning. Ben – you don't want them to see you like this. You may not have noticed, but you're not exactly the neatest person in this place. _Please_ go."

He relented, standing and shuffling towards the door. He chanced one glance back. Abigail was already sitting next to Riley, watching him intently with a crease between her eyes.

Ben found a bathroom first. He stepped inside and looked in a mirror for the first time since the incident. He winced. His face was smudged by dirt and grime in several places, and there were a few small, red scratches and a small bruise on his chin; effects of the tussle with Ian, no doubt. The gauze on the side of his head stuck out almost comically.

Ben sighed and took a paper towel from the dispenser, wetting it and dabbing gingerly at his face. When he was satisfied that all the dirt was gone, he used the toilet and set off to find the cafeteria. It was a floor up from the Intensive Care Unit. Ben hated to admit that he _was _hungry, but he didn't want to spend a long time eating. He bought a salad, a tiny bag of pretzels, and a Coke and ate in record time, holding on to the drink as he descended back to Riley's room.

Outside the door, he could hear Abigail talking to someone. But no one was responding. Curious, he cracked the door.

Abigail was leaning forward over the bed, the tea forgotten at her feet. Her hands were clasped around one of Riley's, and she was talking to him quietly, though he appeared as unconscious as ever.

"…so that's how it happened. When I was born, my parents gave me her name as my middle name. Funny story, right? Now, you have to promise you'll wake up and tell me what _your _middle name is, okay? A deal's a deal."

She waited for a moment, then laid her head on the bed, face down. Ben stepped inside, letting the door shut with a soft click behind him.

"Telling stories without me?" he teased.

Abigail looked up and managed a small smile. "You look better."

He sat on the edge of the bed, facing his fiancée. "What were you two talking about?"

"If by 'you two' you mean 'me,' I was telling him the story behind my middle name." Ben arched an eyebrow. She explained, "He always used to ask me what it was, but I would never tell him."

"I don't think _I _even know your middle name," Ben admitted.

"It's Hilda. The name of my parent's ex-neighbor. Don't ask; it's a long story. Took your entire dinner trip to tell it." She sighed and glanced down at her hands, still holding Riley's. "He never told me his middle name, either. So I told him…if I told him mine, he owed me his."

Ben couldn't help smiling. "If the rest of his name is any judge, he'll either have some really modern name…"

"…or some really old-fashioned one," Abigail finished, smirking. "I'm betting on the second."

The door opened again and Dr. Parson entered, accompanied by a nurse. She moved directly to the bed, ignoring Ben and Abigail, to check on Riley.

"They do this every hour," Abigail whispered to Ben.

Dr. Parson spoke to Ben. "I'm assuming you and your fiancée will be staying the night?"

Ben nodded firmly. "We're not leaving him."

"No change," the nurse announced, marking something on the clipboard attached to the end of Riley's bed.

"I'll send in some pillows," the doctor said, patting Abigail on the shoulder. He and the nurse left.

For the next hour, Ben and Abigail sat in silence, both lost in their thoughts, each holding one of Riley's hands. Abigail's eyes were fixed on the TV, which was on the news on low volume; Ben couldn't look away from Riley.

Suddenly, Abigail gasped.

"Ben, look!" She grabbed the TV remote and turned up the volume. Ben looked up and was shocked to see Riley's face on the screen behind a female reporter.

"…Riley Poole, co-finder of the Templar treasure and the City of Gold, was rescued early this morning in an undisclosed location. It has been confirmed that he was kidnapped by Ian Howe, a former colleague who broke out of prison earlier this week. Howe is now in custody. Mr. Poole was rushed to an unknown hospital and is reported to be in serious condition. We'll keep you updated on his recovery. Back to you, Jim."

Abigail muted the volume and turned to Ben.

"My guess is that his book sales are about to go way up."

Ben pinched his nose and exhaled. "You know, I just realized something. We haven't heard anything from Jackie throughout all of this. I would have thought she'd have called by now."

Abigail frowned too. "Maybe…maybe there's something he didn't tell us? Maybe they got in a fight after all."

"Even so…she's bound to be worried about him."

Abigail shrugged. "She doesn't have our cell numbers, and goodness knows what happened to Riley's phone. For all we know she's been calling a ton."

Ben nodded in acceptance, and they fell silent again.

Then Ben sighed and shifted.

"I just…I feel so guilty," he admitted. "This is all my fault."

"No, it isn't, Ben. How were you supposed to know Ian had broken out of jail?" Abigail countered, frowning at him.

Ben shook his head. "Maybe not that part. But I still think I could have protected him more. I put him in the path of all this in the first place. From the very beginning..."

"Riley chose to join your team, Ben. He made the conscious decision."

"But he didn't know it was going to entail all _this_." Ben gestured helplessly around him.

"Neither did you. Ben, Riley's an adult. I know you sometimes think of him as a kid; I'm guilty as well, especially at a time like this. But he can make his own decisions. And he…he looks up to you. You know he'd follow you to the ends of the Earth and farther."

"But why him?" Ben asked desperately. "Why not me?"

Abigail had no answer to that.

Ben sighed and stilled his trembling hands on the bed frame. "What if he dies?" he whispered. "He was mad at me, Abigail. He yelled at me, and I deserved it. I took him for granted. Now…now I might lose him." A tear dripped down his face. "And never get to apologize, or tell him how much he means to me."

Abigail got out of her chair and rounded the bed. She put her arms around her fiancée and hugged him tightly as they both let the tears fall, fast and heavy.

"Riley knows you love him," Abigail murmured. "He knows _we _love him. He's a fighter…if there's any chance at all…he'll pull through. Because we need him as much as he needs us."

--

Riley felt himself drifting. Everything was black around him, but he wasn't scared. It felt like he was floating in the air; the sensation was strangely comfortable. There were voices, but the words were unclear and drawn out, sluggish, as if underwater.

_Am I dead?_

He tried to remember what had happened, but his memories dissolved as quickly as he recalled them, so he gave up and drifted endlessly, letting his mind wander.

_Death isn't too bad._

And then a voice cut into the blackness, just clear enough to make out.

"Do something!" Ben screeched.

Riley was annoyed. Ben didn't have to yell. What did he expect Riley to _do_? He couldn't even bring himself to respond.

An unmeasurable amount of time later, the atmosphere thickened tangibly. Riley struggled fruitlessly against it, but his limbs wouldn't obey. Matter of fact, he couldn't feel anything. The voices continued…

"He's in a coma," a disappointed voice sighed.

_Who? Oh…me._ _So I'm alive, right?_

That should have made him feel better, but with the realization that he was alive came the pain. It wasn't a sharp pain, but it was dull and a nuisance, and reminded him briefly why exactly he was in a coma...and then those memories were whisked away, too.

Ages later…

"Riley? Can you hear me?"

Abigail's voice reached him, coated in layers of anxiety.

_I'm right here! _But of course she couldn't hear him, because his mouth wasn't working.

"Just thought the time had come to tell you…my middle name. It all started when…"

He listened to her story, amused. Hilda. Ooh, he'd be able to use that against her when…if…he woke up.

_A deal's a deal._

Ugh. This was so…tiresome. Riley really wanted to get rid of the indistinguishable voices in his head (_Great Riley, so young and already schizophrenic…)_, but as soon as Abigail's voice died away they sprang up again.

It was strange, though. He felt like he could _move._ Not physically, but mentally. Like if he wanted to, he could move between dimensions of the mind. And that was when the thought first occurred to him: What if he had to make the choice to live or die?

Oh.

What a crappy decision to have to make. On the one hand, the thought of life was wonderful next to the ocean of black he was currently immersed in. On the other…with life would come pain. Lots of pain. At least here, the pain was minimal. He _could _stay here forever…But eventually they would decide he wasn't coming out of his coma and pull the plug.

…he made a mental note to stop watching so many hospital shows.

Well, he could _try _to go back to life, and if the pain became too unbearable, he could retreat. Yes, that was a good idea.

_I think I can, I think I can…_

* * *

A/N: So we started out solemn, then got a little humorous. I just really didn't want this to turn into another one of those stories with like, four or five chapters devoted to Ben and Abigail watching Riley in the hospital. So we got a little of Riley's comatose point of view. Chapter title also refers to Ben and Abigail's constant silence. Review?


	23. Visitation

A/N: And...here we go again. This often happens to me - I get really excited at the end of a story and update it every one or two days. I'm glad everyone liked the last chapter - you're gonna love this one!

* * *

**Visitation**

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Abigail reluctantly opened her eyes. The room was dark around her, but pale light shone from under the curtains, which meant it had to be day outside. She glanced at the clock.

6:30 am. Yep.

She sat up and stretched, yawning and wincing at the stiffness of her back. Sleeping in a hospital chair was not the most comfortable way to rest. She stood, her eyes adjusting to the lack of light. Ben was still asleep, slouched in his chair with his head tilted oddly to one side. Riley was as still as ever. It had been his beeping monitor that pulled her awake.

Abigail smiled. Part of her felt sluggish for sleeping so easily, and for so long. But the rest of her welcomed the much-needed rest. As long as Riley didn't wake up while she was asleep, Abigail was thankful for the opportunity.

She turned and quietly left the room, shutting the door softly behind her. The hospital was already bustling with activity. Abigail spotted Dr. Parson and Ben's nagging nurse in the hall, but didn't approach either of them. Instead, she took the elevator up to the cafeteria and bought a cereal and a carton of milk, sitting at one of the tables to eat it.

"Dr. Chase?"

She looked up at the familiar voice.

"Agent Sadusky! What are you doing here? Please, sit down." She gestured to the empty seat in front of her.

He sat and took a sip of his coffee.

"Well, unfortunately I came to talk to you and Ben."

"Oh…of course." Abigail nodded, grimacing.

Sadusky noticed. "How is Mr. Poole?"

"He's...in a coma," Abigail admitted.

"I'm sorry."

Abigail knew he meant it. "Thanks." She hesitated. "Riley was on the news last night…"

Sadusky nodded. "Well, we had to broadcast that he'd been found and Howe had been apprehended."

"What happened to Ian?" Abigail asked curiously.

"He's in the hospital still." Sadusky told her.

Abigail couldn't hide the surprise on her face. "You mean…he's here? In the building?"

"Yes. Don't worry, Dr. Chase, there's a special center in the hospital for just such a purpose. He isn't going anywhere. He'll be transferred back to the D.C. jail in a few days."

"And…the others?"

"Mr. Jameson-"

"Who?"

"The deceased, Philip Jameson?"

"Oh," Abigail understood. "We only knew him as Phil."

"Yes, well, his family has been contacted, and his body sent to them in Virginia."

Abigail remembered what Phil had told her about his family, and she felt sorry for his siblings. "The other two?"

"Mr. Powell and Mr. Shippen are in jail here for the time being. We needed to get the story from you and Ben before we make our jurisdiction. From the way you were tearing out my agents yesterday morning, I assume there's more to the story?" His eyes twinkled.

Abigail flushed. "Yes, there is. But it's sort of complicated. Why don't we go see if Ben's up?" she suggested.

Abigail bought Ben an orange juice and led their friend back to Riley's room. Surprisingly, the door was open and there were several nurses clustered in the hall. It wasn't until she saw the worried looks on their faces that she registered something was wrong and shoved her way through the crowd into the room.

Ben stood against the window, his face white. Dr. Parson and two other doctors hovered over Riley. Abigail couldn't tell what was wrong; the heart monitor was still beating at a normal rate.

"Ben?"

He glanced at her when she touched his shoulder. "He stopped breathing," Ben murmured. "I woke up and it took me a minute to notice…then I called the nurses in…" His gaze stopped at a point behind Abigail. "Sadusky."

The agent joined them. "Hello, Ben."

"Is he okay now?" Abigail asked.

Ben nodded tersely. "For now. But what if it happens again, and no one notices…?" The close call had clearly shaken him to the core.

Abigail's face set. "One of us will always be awake with him, from now on."

A few minutes later, the room cleared out. Dr. Parson approached them.

"He's fine," he said confidently. "It's all right. You caught him in time, Mr. Gates." He turned to Sadusky. "And you are…?"

"I'm a friend. Peter Sadusky, FBI," Sadusky shook the doctor's hand.

The doctor nodded. "In that case, carry on. Let me know if there are any changes."

Once the door had closed behind him, the others gathered around Riley. Ben and Abigail each took one of his hands, and Sadusky stood beside Ben, an unusually gentle look on his face.

"You know, his book was actually very interesting," the man murmured.

Ben raised his eyebrows. "You enjoyed it?"

"You sound surprised."

"I still can't see Riley as an author."

They fell silent. Finally, Abigail spoke up.

"Agent Sadusky wanted to talk to us, Ben. About…you know. Everything."

Ben didn't look surprised. He sighed. "Okay. Pull up a chair."

--

An hour later, the tale was finished. In classic police style, Sadusky recorded the whole thing on a tape recorder.

The agent looked at Riley with new respect. "We knew Mr. Poole at one point handled a gun; we found his fingerprints. But I didn't know…"

"…he was actually capable of shooting someone?" Ben shook his head. "I didn't, either. But it was definitely not planned. Otherwise there's no way he would have been able to do it."

Before anyone could say anything further, there was a knock on the door and it opened. A nurse stuck her head into the room.

"Excuse me. Patrick and Emily Gates are here…"

Ben stood. "Yeah, they're my parents."

"I'm not supposed to let more than two visitors in the room at a time. There are already three of you..."

Ben sighed. "Abigail, Sadusky, will you stay with Riley while I go talk to my parents?"

They nodded and he followed the nurse to the waiting room, where his parents were waiting impatiently.

"Ben!" Emily pulled her son into her arms and held him tightly. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Mom." Ben gently pried her arms loose, only to be hugged by his father. "Really, guys. I am."

"Abigail?" Patrick inquired.

"She's fine. She and Sadusky are with Riley right now."

"How is _he_?"

"He's in a coma."

Emily drew in a breath. "Oh, dear…"

"Ben, what _happened_?" Patrick asked sharply.

Ben waved his parents to chairs, thankful they were alone in the room for the present. He gave them a ten-minute abbreviated version of the events at the Grand Canyon.

"You got hit over the head?" Emily frowned, reaching up to examine the injury. "Ben, you might have a concussion!"

"I wouldn't let them check," Ben shrugged.

Emily pursed her lips in displeasure. "Benjamin Franklin Gates, I know you're worried about your friend, but you need to take care of yourself, too."

Ben smiled wryly. "If I let them check, will you stop worrying about me?"

She nodded reluctantly.

"Can we see Riley?" Patrick wanted to know.

"Of course. Follow me."

--

The morning and afternoon passed by. To say Ben's parents were upset at the sight of Riley would be an understatement; Emily nearly burst into tears and had to leave the room, and Patrick fell into a long silence. They tried to keep the number of people in Riley's room to no more than three at a time. Ben refused to leave his friend's side again (except to be examined for the concussion; luckily, he didn't have one), and Abigail too was reluctant to be out of sight of the patient, so Ben's parents spent a lot of time in the cafeteria or waiting room, checking occasionally on the younger couple. Sadusky left almost immediately to rejoin the investigation at the Canyon.

Eventually, Patrick and Emily left the hospital to get a room for the night. Ben halfheartedly suggested Abigail go with them and get some rest, but her glare was so heated he dropped the subject quickly.

The sky had just turned dark outside when Ben suddenly jumped, prompting Abigail to drop the book she was reading.

"Riley?" Ben asked, hardly daring to hope the twitch he'd just seen was real.

"Riley?" Abigail echoed, leaning forward as well.

Riley's lips moved.

"Ugh…"

"Riley?"

Blue eyes blinked and opened.

* * *

A/N: So - how do you all feel now? Hehe. Review!


	24. Riley

A/N: So sorry for the wait! I expected to have the story finished by now, but SCHOOL. Wow. Junior year is gonna be tough...Chemistry, AP English, AP US History, Pre-Calc/Trig, Spanish 3, Yearbook, Theater, and Creative Writing...what a rush. On the plus side...I'm sure I'll find every National Treasure reference in history class!

So this is sorta the last chapter, but there's the epilogue to go!

* * *

**Riley**

"Riley! You're awake!" Ben exclaimed, a huge grin stretching his face.

Riley opened his mouth and instantly fell into a coughing fit, his body racking with each harrumph. His eyes watered and he took gasping breaths as the choked coughs lessened.

Abigail pressed the nurse's button, her face tight with worry.

A nurse hurried in and saw that Riley was conscious. She leaned back out the doorway.

"Somebody get Dr. Parson! Room 312's awake!"

The next several minutes were chaotic. Dr. Parson, along with an entourage of doctors and nurses, filled the room with equipment and reports of Riley's vitals.

"You're in good hands, Mr. Poole. You're going to be fine," Dr. Parson encouraged the techie, who was looking around woozily. "Can you say something for me? We need to check speech capabilities."

"Hurts…" Riley mumbled.

"We'll get you a morphine drip in just a few minutes," the doctor told him kindly. He turned to Ben and Abigail, pressed against the wall in the confusion. "The morphine will numb the pain, but it's also going to make him drowsy. If he wants to sleep, let him. It would be best not to overexert him right now."

They nodded, their eyes glued on Riley. The doctor left, and, after getting Riley on morphine, the nurses cleared out of the room, too, leaving the three friends alone.

Riley eyed his friends rather apprehensively.

"Hi," he murmured, his voice gravely. He winced.

Abigail handed him a glass of water.

"How are you feeling?" she whispered.

"Not great," he admitted. "My nose is on fire." His voice _was _slightly nasally, and his noise was very bruised under the wrapping.

"The doctors say it'll be all right," Ben murmured. "A little crooked, maybe, but a full recovery."

"And my ankle…"

"We don't know." Abigail's voice broke. "We hope for the best…"

"Aw, Abi, don't cry…" Riley slurred. "'M okay…" His eyes glazed over.

Ben noticed. "Go to sleep, Riley. We'll still be here when you wake up."

"'M not tired…" he protested, yawning as his eyes fluttered shut. "Mmm…" His slow breathing filled the room.

They watched him for a long moment, letting their relief sink in and taking in the welcome sight of his peaceful slumber.

"He's really going to be okay," Abigail whispered.

"He really is," Ben agreed, sighing in silent thanks.

Abigail stood. "I'm going to call your parents."

Ben nodded. "But don't call Sadusky yet, okay? I don't think Riley's ready."

"Sure. I'll be back in a little while." Abigail stepped out of the room. She called Patrick and Emily, who eagerly promised to be at the hospital in an hour, just before visiting hours were over. Then, making up her mind at the last minute, the blonde made her way to the nurse's station.

"Excuse me?"

A brunette lady looked up. "Can I help you?"

Abigail took a deep breath. "Could you please tell me where criminal patients are kept?"

"On the first floor, but only family is allowed in that area…" the woman said doubtfully.

Abigail found her way to the correct wing. She approached a security guard at the desk.

"I need to see Ian Howe."

The guard shook his head, amused. "Sorry, visiting hours are over for this lot." He pointed to a sign that read 'Visiting Hours: 8 am to 7 pm.'

"But I have to talk to him!" Abigail protested.

"Come back tomorrow. Actually, don't. No visiting on Sundays." He pointed to another sign.

Abigail ground her teeth together in frustration.

"Uh…you're Dr. Chase, right?"

Abigail turned at the new voice. She recognized one of Sadusky's men, Agent Hendricks.

"Yes, that's right."

"You want to see Howe?" He seemed bemused.

"Yes…" Her hopes rose.

He studied her face for a moment, and then nodded. "Okay. She's with me," he told the guard.

Abigail followed Hendricks into the prisoner ward.

"Thanks."

He shrugged. "No problem – just one question. Why would you want to speak with Howe, after everything he's done to you?"

Abigail contemplated this for a few seconds. "I…I guess I feel like I _have _to. I know Ben won't, but someone has to. To get closure."

"Here he is." Hendricks stopped in front of a door with a small plexiglass window. Abigail didn't bother looking inside.

"What are _you _doing here?" she ventured.

"Boss is a little paranoid," Hendricks grinned. "He wants one of his own to monitor the situation while Howe's here. My shift." He noticed Abigail's hesitation. "He can't hurt you. He's cuffed to the bed."

"I'm not scared." Abigail squared her shoulders and nodded. "Go ahead."

Hendricks keyed a code into the pad by the door, and there was a click.

"When you're finished, just knock. I'll be right here." He opened the door and Abigail stepped cautiously inside.

Ian was sitting on his bed, reading a book. His right shoulder was bandaged, and his left wrist secured to the bed frame. He looked up when Abigail entered.

"Dr. Chase," he said evenly, arching an eyebrow.

There was a chair by the door. Abigail sat in it, scrutinizing Ian just as carefully as he was her.

"Why'd you do it?" she asked finally.

He didn't have to ask what she meant. Sighing, he set the book aside.

"What makes you think I have a reason?"

She answered just as calmly. "Because I know you well enough to know you don't usually lose control. You have reasons. Your danger is the intelligence behind your decisions."

He chuckled quietly. "Have me all figured out, do you?" He considered. "Who doesn't thirst for treasure, Dr. Chase? Don't tell me that before you became involved with Ben you never dreamed about finding a remarkable treasure, a vast amount of wealth and power. I know I always imagined it." His eyes gleamed. "And so Ben and I were the perfect team, really. I refused to give up on him, and when we found proof the treasure was real…can you blame me for doing anything possible to find it? And then-" bitterness infused his words now – "then I was locked away simply because my ambitions were great. And so revenge seemed the obvious path. Revenge and a whole new treasure that promised to be better than the Templar treasure, better even than Cibola. I saw my chance, and I took it. It was almost too easy. Especially when the stakes are high…Ben can't resist a treasure hunt."

Abigail gritted her teeth. "You're wrong, you know. Ben treasures many things more than treasure itself. It wasn't about the wealth, or even the history this time."

"You're right." Ian nodded and smirked. "But not all treasure is silver and gold."

"Riley's going to be fine, by the way," Abigail replied coldly. "He'll heal from this. You tried your best to get rid of him, but you failed."

Anger flashed across Ian's face, and he sneered. "If I'd wanted to kill the little twit, he'd have been dead from the beginning. Do you understand the concept of a bargaining chip?"

Abigail leapt to her feet. "People are _not _bargaining chips. That's the difference between you and Ben."

"Oh, we're not so different, really," Ian replied lightly.

"That's one thing you're wrong about," Abigail spat. She knocked on the door behind her. "Have fun in jail."

His cold eyes followed her all the way back upstairs.

--

"Ben?"

Ben's head whipped around at the familiar voice. Riley was sitting up in bed, watching his friend with calculating eyes.

"Riley! How do you feel?" he asked eagerly.

"Better. When can I get out of here?"

Ben smiled. "Not for a while, I'm afraid. The doctors want to make sure you're well on your way to a full recovery first."

"I'm fine," Riley grumbled.

"You almost _died_!" Ben frowned. "You really scared me, Ri."

"I did?" Riley sounded surprised, and Ben's frown deepened.

"Of course! When Ian kidnapped you, I-"

"Is _he_ dead?" Riley interjected blandly.

"No…" Ben said slowly, put off by his friend's odd behavior. "Just shot in the shoulder."

"Too bad." Riley flinched and softened. "I mean, I'm glad I didn't kill him, but…"

"I understand."

"Do you?"

Ben sat back, stung by the words and the conflicting emotions in Riley's eyes. He had known this was coming; it was inevitable that he and his friend work things out this way. He just didn't know where to start.

"Riley…I owe you an apology." Riley, who was now staring out the window, didn't respond. "I've been neglecting everything you do for us…for _me._I mean, you've always been there, from the very beginning of this crazy life. You were there in the Charlotte, and you were there at the Archives, and Independence Hall, and Trinity Church, and every other step along the way. You were there while Abigail and I were fighting, and you were there for Cibola, even though I had no right to ask you – heck, I didn't even _ask _you – to help me prove my ancestor innocent. You were at Buckingham Palace, and even at the White House. You were there in Mount Rushmore, when we almost drowned. You were even there when I proposed to Abigail, and promised to be my best man. It's gone on so long I can't imagine doing anything without you now.

"But what did _you _get, Riley? Threats, guns, car chases, kidnappings, beatings…And I didn't even _read your book_!" He choked on the last phrase, the true understanding of his neglect washing over him as he admitted it. "I never thanked you, never told you how much it means to me that you're always there. And God knows you deserve it, because I never could have made it without you!" He pounded his fist on the bed. "The truth is…you're my best friend, Riley. You mean _so much _to me…I don't know what I'd do without you. When you were in the coma…and I didn't know if you were going to wake up…" He took a shaky breath. "I felt like a piece of me was dying with you. You're like my brother, Ri – you _are_ my brother, and I just never appreciated it before. I'm truly sorry for everything…if I could go back, I would make it all me. Because you don't deserve it. You're the selfless one who's always been there. I'm _so _sorry…" He fell silent and turned away, taking deep breaths and wiping a stray tear off his face.

For a moment, there was silence in the room. Then Riley leaned forward and touched Ben lightly on the shoulder.

"Ben…Ben, it's all right." Ben turned and was shocked to see tears in Riley's eyes. He had _never _seen Riley cry.

"I-I-"

"Shh," Riley said, smiling slightly. He fiddled awkwardly with his sheet. "Thank you, Ben. What you just said…means a lot. And…I want you to know that I'm not sorry. For any of it."

"But you helped me even when I didn't help you!"

"Because that's what friends do," Riley said softly. He patted Ben on the back. "I will always be there, Ben. You can't get rid of your little brother that quickly."

Ben felt warmth spread through him as he grinned at the techie, who smiled genuinely back. He leaned forward, and they hugged for a quick moment before pulling back and clasping hands.

The door opened, and Abigail walked in. She beamed upon seeing the men's reconciliation.

She hugged Riley gently. "I'm so glad you're going to be okay," she told him.

He grinned at her. "C'mon, Abi, who'd be the best man at the wedding if I died?"

"I don't know…maybe Conor…" She teased, laughing at the distaste on Ben's face. She kissed him on the cheek. "Only joking, dear."

"Suuuuuure you were…" Riley smirked. He lowered his head shyly. "Thanks, Abi. For...um...you know. The Canyon."

Her smile spread even wider (if that was possible), but all she said was, "I talked to the doctor. He thinks your ankle's going to be just fine."

"You mean I can get out of here soon?" he asked eagerly.

She laughed. "I didn't say that."

He pouted, prompting Ben to grin as well. Even Riley couldn't resist cracking his familiar crooked smile.

The three friends beamed at each other in silence for a long moment. Then the calm was broken again as the door opened once more.

Patrick and Emily Gates entered, zoning in on Riley instantly.

"Riley! You're awake!" Emily breathed a sigh of relief and hugged Riley tightly.

"Uh…ow…" Riley murmured, wincing at the pressure on his ribs.

"Sorry, sorry!" she flustered, taking a step back.

"Give him some space, Em. How you doing, kiddo?" Patrick asked, ruffling Riley's hair fondly.

"I'm okay," Riley assured them, grinning brightly. He gazed around at his family - because that's what they really were; a brother, a sister, and two parents – and felt at peace for the first time in a while. Forget Ian; forget the past few days. He had people around him who truly cared.

It was really going to be okay.

* * *

A/N: Comments? Concerns? Questions? Feel free to leave a message at the beep. -Beep- Or...you could just click the review button.


	25. Epilogue

A/N: And so here it is, the FINAL chapter. Hope you all like the quick update! Please read the author's note at the end, as it will contain my last comments. Thanks!

* * *

**Epilogue**

"But I _want _to go!"

Ben sighed. Riley hadn't stopped whining all morning, and it was really starting to annoy.

It had been nearly a month since the incident at the Grand Canyon. The ghosts of those awful events still lurked occasionally; Riley would act a little off, sometimes waking Ben and Abigail in the middle of the night as he cried out for help. Though the little group of three returned to D.C. about a week after Riley woke up (Patrick and Emily left a day after; Ben and Abigail got a hotel room in the area), the techie was still mostly confined to a wheelchair and the limits irked him. He had been staying in his friends' mansion, which wasn't too much of a change from usual, except that he now required looking-after.

Ian was safely locked away once more in the D.C. jail, this time with tightened security. Sadusky assured them the Brit wasn't going anywhere soon. And after a full explanation of events had been provided by Riley, Powell and Shippen were given lessened sentences. Ben had even arranged for Phil's family to be compensated anonymously for his death.

All in all, things were going very well for the treasure hunters. And they finally had time and a greenlight to go after Quivira, along with professional equipment and help from the FBI. This, however, was the problem.

Riley wanted to go. His wanting to go was rational; he had never before been left behind on a treasure expedition, and didn't want to start a trend now. But Ben, backed by Abigail, blatantly refused to allow Riley to accompany them. Though the younger man was able to stand on a crutch, and his ribs were mostly healed and the bruises fading or gone, he was technically still recovering. And there was no way he would be able to keep up climbing over rocky landscape and getting through whatever other obstacles might await them.

"Riley, we've been over this. You can't come. I'm sorry. You aren't strong enough yet."

"Am too!" Riley pouted.

Ben felt sorry for the kid. He really did. Not only was he still on the mend, but shortly after returning from Arizona, Riley had decided to go visit Jackie, since he hadn't heard from her at all in the past couple of weeks. Turned out Jackie had been unexpectedly called away to England, where her sister lived, the day after Riley's kidnapping, and had been there ever since. Thus, she hadn't heard about the affair until she returned. Naturally, she had been very upset that she hadn't heard anything about her boyfriend's plight, and incredibly guilty for her trip's bad timing. Worst of all, she was moving to England to live permanently with her sister (whose quick summons was due to a serious illness) and help out. So she and Riley had to break up.

Riley hadn't been the same since.

"I have an idea," Abigail piped up from where she was curled in the corner with a book, trying to stay out of the argument. "Why don't you come to Arizona with us and wait while we go in?"

Riley's face fell.

Ben placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Ri, you know I would wait until you're all the way better to do this, but the government's waited as long as it can. The President himself wants the treasure uncovered. The public is getting antsy."

This was true. It had been impossible to keep Quivira a secret. Ben had personally returned the Book to the President along with his apologies. The man had accepted them with the ultimatum that Ben would find the treasure and show it to the world. It was time.

Riley nodded reluctantly. "I know. This just…doesn't feel right."

"I couldn't agree more," Ben admitted. He brightened. "Hey, maybe we can set up some sort of camera, so you can see us and talk to us while we're down there. And once we have the place excavated, I promise we'll get you inside."

Riley grinned. "Thanks, Ben. I guess that's all I can ask for."

"I'll call Sadusky."

--

"Can you see, Riley?" Ben asked as he, Abigail, and a small group of agents peered ahead into the gloom. With the help of some levering equipment, the gravestone at the Canyon had been moved, revealing a hole in the ground several feet deep that led further into an underground tunnel. Riley, Ben's parents, and more agents, including Sadusky, waited outside with a small screen that showed imaging from a camera on Ben's protective hard hat. They also had microphones to listen and talk with Ben and the others.

The tunnel was extremely dark ahead, even with the flashlights.

"_Yeah, I see. Not much _to _see, but…"_

"Gross," Abigail breathed as they moved forward, their lights revealing a scattering of rotted bones in the passageway. Ben winced and avoided staring at the ground.

Cautiously, they moved onwards, the air growing ever more stifling the further in they traveled. There was no way of knowing where they were, except that the ground sloped steadily, which meant they must be descending the Canyon.

Riley began to hum the "Indiana Jones" theme song in Ben's ear. Ben rolled his eyes but ignored it. If Riley couldn't be with them in person, he certainly wasn't going to let them forget he was there via cam.

They reached a fork in the tunnel and stopped short, unsure of which way to go.

"We could split up…" one of the agents, Pickens, suggested halfheartedly.

Ben shook his head, lips pursed. "The second clue said something about not straying from the path, or we risk facing nature's wrath. The wrong way will surely lead to something unpleasant. There has to be a clue around here somewhere."

"_Take the right path,_" Riley said confidently.

"Riley, I really don't think-"

"_No, seriously. There's all kind of superstitions about left paths. Like, evil and stuff. Go right._"

"Riley…" Abigail began, but Ben cut her off.

"Actually, he has a point. The Native Americans were very spiritual, in their own way. And there _are _dark tales about the left, whether it be hand or path. I think we should go right, too."

Abigail shrugged and the others agreed, so, with a satisfied grunt from Riley, they set off again.

"_I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts – there they are, all standing in a row…_" Riley sang.

"Riley – shut up," Abigail said matter-of-factly.

He snorted. "_And what're you going to do about it?_" But he reverted to humming again.

The path began to narrow, until they had to go single-file. Ben led the way so Riley could see from the camera. Very suddenly, they were met by a solid wall.

It was a large rock, as far as could be deemed by what little light there was available. Ben slowly raised a hand and ran it lightly over the stone. It was cool to the touch. He pushed gently. The stone was hard, unmoving. His fingers met indentations in the rock and he squinted, holding the light closer.

"Are you seeing this?" he whispered. It was a carving, with words written in some ancient native language, faint from age but still legible. "Mom, do you know this language?"

He heard a rustling as his mother moved closer to the screen. Then her familiar voice sounded in his ear.

"_Yes, I do. It reads, 'Surrender your sight to the stone.'_"

"Surrender your sight…" Ben closed his eyes and leaned against the stone. He felt a little stupid when nothing happened. He opened his eyes and faced the group once more. "Turn off your lights, and close your eyes. Just in case."

They complied dubiously, and the tunnel became pitch-black. Ben heard Riley suck in a breath.

"We're still here," Abigail whispered. Her hand found Ben's.

He squeezed it and stepped forward purposefully, shoving against the rock. It gave way easily now, and Ben fell forward as blinding light shone through his eyelids, shocking him. Cautiously, he opened his eyes.

The first thing noticeable was the light. The whole cavern was bathed in bright, blinding light, reflected all over so that there was hardly a shadowy corner. The source of the light was seen to be a small hole, high in the rock roof of the cave. And it was reflecting off of…

"_Wow,_" Riley whispered shakily.

'Wow' was an understatement.

Before them was a kingdom of diamonds, glittering invitingly in the light. No, it wasn't diamonds – it was gold. Pure, startlingly brilliant gold. If possible, the city was larger than Cibola. It was amazing; indescribable. Ben felt his breath catch as he struggled to take it in.

Abigail moaned faintly at the same time Emily could be heard gasping.

"This is…this is _really _something!" Pickens gaped, his jaw hanging open.

Ben swallowed and nodded in silent agreement. Then he smirked and turned to Abigail, pulling her close. He whispered in her ear.

"Amateur."

She smiled back, kissing him on the cheek triumphantly.

"_Ew!_" Riley groaned indignantly, his voice still slightly breathless in awe. "_Not in my ear, you two!_"

They laughed.

--

The treasure finders returned to the surface without exploring the city. It was impossible without the right equipment – the city was isolated in the cavern by a circular ravine, which would require ropes and ladders to cross. Besides, Ben knew his mother, especially, would never forgive him if she wasn't there for the excavation.

As soon as Ben stepped out of the tunnel, he was engulfed in a bone-crushing hug from his father.

"You did it again, Ben," Patrick said proudly.

"_We _did it," Ben corrected him. "All of us."

Emily was wringing Sadusky's hand, her face flushed with excitement. The rest of the agents were already preparing for the formal expedition inside. Only Riley sat alone, a small smile on his face.

Ben approached him, squeezing his shoulder.

"You okay?" he asked.

Riley nodded. "I just wish I'd actually been able to help with this one."

"You did," Ben insisted. "Riley, without you, we wouldn't even know the Book existed. There would be no Cibola, no Quivira. You found this one, too."

Riley began to grin. "You promised, Ben."

"Promised what?" Ben asked, confused.

"Finder's fee!" Riley sang.

Ben had honestly forgotten about his promise to Riley. It hadn't come true with Cibola, so he supposed he owed it to his friend now.

"Okay. Do your worst." He winced in anticipation.

"Ten percent," Riley announced firmly.

Ben sighed. "All right. I _did _promise."

Riley pumped the air in excitement.

"I can't wait to get _down there_, Ben! It looked so awesome from up here!"

"It is," Ben assured him.

Riley sat back in contentment. "I like this treasure hunting thing," he said dreamily.

"Good," said Abigail, appearing and putting her arm through Ben's. "Because it's pretty much our full-time career now."

"Riley Poole, Ferrari Owner and Treasure Hunter Extraordinaire. I could get used to that," Riley decided.

* * *

A/N: And so it ends.

A huge thanks to everyone for their enthusiastic response and encouragement throughout the story. Without all you reviewers, I would not have felt the motivation to complete this story! I have been overwhelmed with the most and best reviews I've ever had before, which makes me want to write in this section lots from now on. Definitely look for more by me! Seriously, all of you guys can have whatever virtual treat you want and a million virtual points. You are the reason I write.

I have to dedicate this story to my deceased dog, Whitney. She was an English springer spaniel who passed away July 26th at the age of fifteen. I had her for eleven years, and we grew up together. It's been very hard without her, and as she died in the middle of the writing of this story, I feel it appropriate to dedicate it exclusively to her. I love and miss you, sweetie.

I would really love to reach 300 reviews, and I have a feeling that will be no problem. I've never even been in the triple digits before this fanfic! As I've said, this is one of my personal favorites.

So, signing off (for now - but keep an eye on the horizon!):

-broadwaylover07


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